Infinity Verse MAX
by TheBaneOfHumanity
Summary: (INFINITY VERSE) Every universe has its darker side, and the Infinity Verse is no different. Guns, drugs and murder lie deep within the cracks, and now they will be witnessed by all who dare take a closer look.
1. Michael Myers

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, here's another series that's in the vain of our normal Spotlight series, but, as you can see, would require an M rating similar to Marvel's MAX imprint and DC Black, and since it is the most wonderful time of the year, the choice for who this first one would be centered around is fairly obvious.**

**Also, I do feel the need to point out that there is a more obscure property being used here, that being a game/anime entitled Angels of Death. I hate when I risk potentially giving you guys homework and I did try my best to make it to where watching it wasn't required, but it would probably help if you watched a few clips of it on Crunchyroll's Youtube page to get a feel for it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely none of the properties you will see here. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Infinity Verse MAX

Michael Myers: The Shape of Evil

* * *

_I met him fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscious, understanding in even the most rudimentary sense of life or death. Of good or evil. Right or wrong. I met this... six-year-old child with this...blank, pale, emotionless face and...the blackest eyes...The Devil's eyes. I spent eight years trying to reach him and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because I realized what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply...evil._

-Doctor Samuel Loomis

* * *

Darkness.

For hours, it was all Michael Myers could see as he was tranquilized heavily whilst escorted out of Smith's Grove. He had expected to find himself in a maximum security cell when he awakened, destined to rot there for the rest of his days for the atrocities he had committed on three separate Halloween nights. **[1]**

This made it all the more surprising when he found himself, instead, inside a rather familiar-looking household.

The same household where his murderous ways began.

45 Lampkin Lane, Haddonfield Illinois. The former Myers household.

He awakened next to the stairwell, slowly rising upward before managing to get back on his feet. The area was coated in shadows, but he knew the appearance of his former home more than anyone else. Everything was exactly the way it was back on that fateful day in 1963. Two doorways appeared in front of and behind Michael. The one behind him lead to Judith's room, where the evil that dwelled inside him finally took its shape. To his left was the staircase he awakened next too. Even the paintings on the wall were exactly the same as they were over fifty years ago.

The murderer then proceeded to turn around to face the pathway to his late sister's room, looking down at the exact spot the clown mask he wore while stabbing his sister nine times was before he did the deed. There did indeed was a mask laying there, but it was not that mask.

It was the one he stole from the hardware store on that horrific day in 1978.

The same mask of hate of which some believed he used to dawn the Devil's powers.

Michael bent down to pick it up, noticing also that he was no longer wearing the uniform of a patient of Smith's Grove, but rather another boiler suit. He could tell that something was very off. There was no way that this could be the same house he once lived in. That very house ended up abandoned, dilapidated for years on end with no one daring to so much as step within fifty feet of it anymore. How could it have returned to such pristine condition? Almost as though time had not so much as laid a finger on it? It must be some sort of replica, but who had built it? How would they know of what it looked like on that day? Why would they subdue him and put him in another boiler suit as well as give him back his mask?

These questions boggled the silent killer as he slowly started to place the mask on his face for a third time, taking his first of many heavy breaths as he did so. He then focused his attention on getting the answers he sought, as well as finding and killing those who were responsible for this. He descended down the stairs towards the kitchen before noticing something placed on the table.

A kitchen knife and a tape recorder that had 'play me' written on a piece of tape that was placed on it.

The Shape advanced into the kitchen of his old home, grabbing the handle of the knife with one hand and grasping the tape recorder with the other. Per the instructions written on it, Michael pressed play, allowing the tape inside to begin delivering its message to the babysitter murderer.

"Hello, Michael," said the voice of a young woman. "I understand that this all may seem very disorienting to you, but allow me to explain what is going on. You are currently in the seventh sub-level of an undisclosed structure. Where exactly it is located is not important. You have been chosen by a collaborator of mine to help with an experiment of his. An experiment, he claims, that will test the 'religious faith' inside the hearts of mankind. To do so, we place various 'testing subjects,' if you will, on these floors that are run by those who would kill them without hesitation. That, Michael, is where you come in."

Hearing the words of this woman caused Michael's head to tilt slightly in curiosity.

"You have been chosen to become the 'angel' of floor B7. We've specifically designed it to resemble the street you use to live in back at Haddonfield. Test subjects will be regularly sent here, and while they are on your floor, you are free to try and kill them as you please. However, know that while you are here, there are rules you must follow. If the sacrifice manages to escape your level, you are not to pursue it. You must remain in your floor at all times. If you leave your floor, you will be given a ten-minute warning to return to your domain. If you do not, or if you kill someone outside of your floor, you will be designated as a sacrifice and left at the mercy of your fellow floor masters. So which shall it be, Michael? Live out the rest of your days in a safe environment where you are free to do what you were born to do or be hunted down like a rabid dog once more? Live or die, Michael. Make your cho-"

The tape ceased its recording without warning once Michael started to crush it with his bare hand. A sense of anger began to quietly overtake the masked murderer. This woman could try and deceive him all she wanted, but he saw right through her rose-tinted proposition.

She wanted to use him as a pawn in this game of hers.

Something that Michael did not appreciate in the slightest, and he'd be damned before he allows someone to tell him who he could or couldn't kill.

The iron grip on the butcher's knife not relenting in the slightest, the slasher of Haddonfield silently walked out the front door. What the woman had told him about this floor was not wrong. It did indeed resemble Lampkin Lane as it appeared decades ago when he was still a seemingly normal six-year-old boy, trick-or-treating from house to house. But looks were quite deceiving in this case. The Autumn breeze felt artificial, and in front of the Shape appeared to be an open field in the distance, but a closer inspection revealed that it was indeed a row of cleverly painted walls.

Michael then noticed something to his right. Far off in the distance was an elevator passage. Likely one that would lead to his freedom. The killer slowly advanced towards the passage where he proceeded to press the up button, allowing a pair of primitive elevator doors to open. He walked inside, pressing another button to allow the doors to slowly close and begin Michael's ascension to the next floor.

An intercom from above suddenly started to play an audio recording of what sounded like church bells, however, Michael did not so much as flinch from this sudden action. His eyes were simply staring right at the elevator doors. He didn't even look upward to notice that there was a security camera right above him. His focus was simply on escaping and killing anyone that stood in his way.

Something that, by now, the Shape was very much use to.

"Resident of Floor B7, return to your floor immediately," the voice of a different woman said through the intercom. "This will be your only warning. If you do not return to your floor within the next ten minutes, you will be considered a sacrifice to the other floor masters."

Michael simply ignored this warning, again, focusing his haunting gaze on the elevator doors before the car stopped, the doors opening before the masked murderer, revealing to him what appeared to be a room designed after a group of slums and alleyways. Corroded bricks, filled dumpsters and what appeared to be bloodstains on the small buildings' walls greeted his slightly impaired sight, but again, Michael paid no attention to any of this and simply walked out of the car and into the street before him.

The only sounds emanating through the area were Michael's footsteps and breathing as he slowly walked through the decrepit maze before him, stopping only when he reached a dead-end before continuing on his trek for freedom. Then, about five minutes since his efforts to find another elevator began, the sounds of maniacal laughter and a frightened scream brought an end to the uneasy silence in the air, prompting the Shape to stop in his tracks. A simple command overtook his mind upon realizing that he was not alone on this floor. One simple, solitary word.

KILL

* * *

A woman in her thirties instantly fell on her back when her pursuer burst through the window beside her. A young man carrying a blood-soaked scythe, wearing a grey sports hoodie and with bandages covering most of his face now stood in front of her, cackling in a crazed manner as he did so. The woman let out a horrified scream as she slowly realized who now stood before her.

A notorious serial killer by the name of Isaac Foster.

"That's right, bitch, scream!" the maniac said. "That sad, desperate, pathetic face just makes me want to gut you like a fish!"

The woman breathed heavily in a panic as Isaac brought up three of his left fingers.

"You got three seconds. Go ahead. Just try and run! Oh, and maybe start crying and begging for mercy while you're at it! Three..."

Not wanting to take any chances, the woman instantly got back on her feet and ran away from the crazed murderer.

"Two..."

The would-be-victim continued to flee, focusing so much on the man that was currently after her life that she failed to notice something in the shadows to her right.

A shape.

"ONE!"

With that, Isaac immediately began to charge towards his target, laughing as his eyes almost appeared to be glowing a hellish shade of red. However, he too failed to notice the shape that watched both him and his target from within the darkness.

The woman bolted through a door she spotted, finding herself in a decaying kitchen as she prayed that lunatic didn't see her entering this room. She quickly attempted to find a means of defending herself, like a knife or a shard of broken glass, but it was to no avail. So, she was left with hiding as her only option.

Padlocks instantly meant that the refrigerator and freezer were out of the question and the oven was far too small for her to hide inside, so her only option was to duck underneath the table, out of a nearby window's line of sight as she placed her hands on her mouth so that she could cease her gasps of terror. The sounds of footsteps caused her eyes to widen as she saw the scythe-carrying murderer step in front of the window. He turned to look into the kitchen as the woman began to shiver with fear.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, bitch," Isaac said, barely containing his laughter.

Second after agonizing second passed with him seemingly doing nothing and the woman remaining motionless the entire time. Tension filled the air until a sigh from the killer caught the woman off guard.

"Not here," he said to himself before walking off.

A quiet sigh of relief escaped the woman's lips as she slowly emerged from under the table and approached the door, only for her to stop just inches from the handle. She couldn't figure out why, but something in her head told her she wasn't alone. Uneasy, she turned around to a darkened corner of the kitchen. One that appeared to be practically pitch black. Seconds passed as an uneasy silence overtook the scene, cold sweat running down the woman's forehead as she anticipated someone emerging from the shadows, but that did not come to be. Feeling as though it was her superstitions playing tricks on her, the woman turned to the door once again, turning the handle as she did so.

Then, the feeling returned. She turned once more, this time seeing Michael standing right in front of her, knife in the air before swinging it down upon her. She had managed to react in time to prevent the instrument from slicing her neck open, but it still managed to find it's mark with her right arm. She yelled out in pain as she fell through the open door onto her stomach. The babysitter murderer looked down at her as he crouched down and aimed his weapon towards the woman's back, only for her to push herself out of its path. Again, however, it reached a different target: Her left leg.

The woman cried out in pain once more as she stumbled back onto her feet, limping away from her new pursuer as he slowly started to give chase.

* * *

Far away, Isaac, hearing the woman's cries, grinned sadistically and let out a most devious chuckle.

* * *

"HELP ME!" she shouted as she turned to see Michael moving closer and closer towards her. She continued to fight the pain in her foot and grip her arm to slow the bleeding as much as she could as she still limped along in an attempt to evade the Shape. Her efforts came to an end, however, as she slammed face-first against a closed door. She managed to stop herself from falling again and went to try and open it, only to find that it was locked.

She turned to her left and her right, only for two walls to meet her eyes. She then turned completely around to try and find an escape route, only to see Michael standing no more than twenty feet away from her. The woman let out a horrified scream as she then started banging on the door in the vain hope that someone was on the other side.

"SOMEBODY, PLEASE!" she pleaded. "OPEN THE DOOR! SOMEONE OPEN THE DOOR!"

Michael continued to stare at this woman, watching as she slammed her hands against the door when a series of images started to flash through his mind.

Images...of HER.

_"TOMMY! TOMMY, IT'S ME! TOMMY, HURRY UP!"_

_As Michael reached towards Laurie, she instantly reacted by driving an unfolded clothes hanger right through his left eye. The second he dropped his weapon as he reached for his blinded eye, Laurie reacted by stabbing him through the abdomen._

_"Happy Halloween, Michael."_

_Michael barely had any time to react when Laurie emerged from behind, knife in her hand as she grazed his shoulder with it._

_"It's not a cage, baby...It's a trap."_

_"Goodbye, Michael."_

_The gases ignited around Michael as he continued to stare emotionlessly at Laurie, Karen, and Allyson._

The mere thought of that annoying girl was enough to make Michael's knuckles turn white as he tightly gripped the handle of his knife. He then began marching his way towards the girl, who turned to see this action upon hearing the Shape's heavy footsteps approach her.

"HELP ME!" she screamed as she continued to bang on the door. "SOMEBODY, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR! PLEASE!"

Once Michael reached the woman, he proceeded to grab her by the head and pull her towards him. The woman screamed in terror as she struggled for the killer to release her, but it was to no avail as Michael, without hesitation, slammed her head through the door's window, shattering it upon impact. Shards of glass were driven through her cheeks, forehead, left eye and neck. Blood started to pour from these wounds as the neck wound caused her to start choking. Michael then tossed her onto her back as she desperately tried to stop the bleeding in her neck, only for the masked murderer to approach her and crouch down before driving his knife through her heart four times.

* * *

Isaac didn't even notice that the screams had ceased as he ran towards the source of these horrific sounds. All that was on his mind was how he was going to mince her to pieces and the face she would make as he committed the atrocious deed. It wasn't until the intercoms above started to play the sounds of church bells chiming once more.

"Huh?" he muttered, stopping dead in his tracks as he did so.

"A floor B7 resident has murdered a sacrifice on floor B6. Since this violates the rules, the traitor is now a sacrifice."

It took some time, but as Isaac started to put the pieces together, his look of confusion turned to one of anger as he grinded his teeth and tightly gripped the handle of his scythe.

"DAMNIT, SHE WAS MINE!" he shouted.

* * *

The life faded from the woman's eyes as her body went limp, lying in a pool of her own blood. It was a sight Michael bore witness to several times before and was destined to tirelessly witness it again and again for the rest of his days. The blood of his victim continued to drip from his knife as he began to depart this scene and continue his quest for freedom when...

"HEY, SHITHEAD!" an enraged voice shouted from behind.

The masked killer turned to face Isaac standing before him, seething with rage and scythe in hands. Michael recognized him as the second person he saw when he observed the woman from the shadows, but his black, empty eyes gave off no sense of retaliation or surprise. They were as emotionless as ever.

"You got SOME NERVE barging into MY floor and start taking MY victims like you own the damn place!" Isaac continued. "Guess I'll have to make up for that by strangling you with your own intestines!"

Hearing these threats did not stir Michael in the slightest. He just continued to stare at Isaac with the same, blank expression the entire time he shouted at him, which, in turn, only managed to make the scythe-wielding maniac even angrier.

"Keep making that stupid face all you want," he snarled. "It's not gonna last when I get started turning you into minced meat!"

The bandaged killer ran towards Michael, scythe in hand before swinging it towards his adversary, yelling out in contempt as he did so. But the blade failed to meet its mark, as the Shape had grabbed the handle with his right hand, stopping it just an inch away from his neck. A shocked Isaac was then hurled towards the door the woman was previously trying to get open with such force that it knocked it off of its hinges, sending him into the room beyond it.

Michael still had the scythe in his hand as he observed Isaac trying to get back on his feet. The butcher of Haddonfield proceeded to toss it towards Isaac with the intention of it slicing something off, only for the killer to roll out of its path and get stuck, blade-first, on the floor. Seeing this, Michael bent down to grab the knife he had dropped and approach the bandaged maniac, only for him to instantly get back on his feet, reclaim his weapon and launch himself at Michael, stabbing him through the shoulder.

The Shape grunted slightly in pain as he stumbled backward while Isaac pulled his scythe away, grinning sadistically, only for it to fade when he saw Michael's eyes were as black and emotionless as ever.

"Hey, c'mon, pal, least you could do is start begging for your life right about n-" he attempted to say, only for Michael to march his way towards him, raising his knife upwards as he did so.

Isaac was able to counter this time, shifting to the left whilst positioning his scythe for another swing. As he did do, Michael ducked downward before slashing his knife across the bandaged psycho's stomach before driving it into his right shoulder. The other murderer cried out in pain before snarling and pushing the Shape up against the wall with the handle of his weapon, causing the babysitter murderer to drop his own weapon. Chuckling deviously, Isaac placed his right boot against Michael's stomach to try and hold him in place before readying his scythe once more.

"Trick-or-treat, motherfu-" he tried to say.

He was rudely interrupted, however, when Michael smashed forehead against his opponent's. This disoriented Isaac for a moment, enough time for Michael to grab him by his neck and turn around swiftly, now shoving him against the wall he was previously trapped against. He started to strangle the bandaged maniac as he tried to fight his way out of the Shape's iron grip. As Isaac struggled just to breathe, he noticed a pair of scissors on a nearby table and instantly grabbed them before jabbing them into the left side of Michael's neck.

This move resulted in Michael dropping Isaac as he reached for the wound, allowing Isaac to dash back to his weapon, getting in a stance as the Haddonfield butcher turned to face him.

"Come and get me, ya damn freak!" he shouted.

He then made his way up a flight of stairs whilst Michael grabbed his knife once more and slowly followed him.

The stairs made their way to the roof of the structure they were in. From here, Michael could see the sheer size and scope of floor B6. A labyrinth of slums that had to have been about two to three city blocks in width. He then noticed something to his left. He advanced in that direction to try and get a better look, only to hear the chuckling of that irritating, scythe-wielding maniac. He turned just in time to see him jump out from behind a busted air conditioner.

"Peekaboo, I see you!" he gleefully cried out.

His scythe found its mark into Michael's chest, causing him to fall on his back. Isaac then pulled his weapon out of the killer's chest as he stood before him, grinning psychotically.

"This ain't Haddonfield, Mikey," he stated. "Round here, I'M top dog. And I don't take too kindly to some bozo in a mask thinking like he can-"

Michael didn't allow him to continue, as he swiftly lifted himself upward and stabbed Isaac right into his left leg. Isaac cried out in pain as he stumbled downward, dropping his scythe while the Shape got back on his feet.

"Hey, I wasn't finished, you son of a bitch!" Isaac angrily shouted as he swung his right fist towards Michael's head.

The Shape, however, blocked Isaac's fist with his hand, the impact snapping his wrist out of his socket. The bandaged murderer's eyes widened before yelling out in pain. Despite this, he made one last attempt to try and attack Michael, this time attempting to tackle him off of the roof. However, Michael simply stepped to the side, allowing Isaac to stumble as he attempted to cease his now folly attempt, but it was too late. Isaac tripped over the balcony and fell about twenty feet to the street below.

Michael advanced to where Isaac fell, looking down to see the motionless body laying stomach-first in a small pool of his own blood. The butcher of Haddonfield then turned to what he was trying to get a good look at earlier and confirmed his suspicions: Out in the distance was a second elevator. No doubt one that would at least get him a step closer to his freedom. Curiously, Michael looked down once more and was slightly surprised as to what he now saw.

Isaac was gone.

No doubt he must have survived the fall somehow, similarly to what happened to him and Laurie in both of their encounters, but he honestly couldn't care less. He had other things to worry about than hunting down that maniac to finish the job.

Including finishing the job he started with Laurie over four decades ago.

So, with that in mind, Michael walked back to the staircase, beginning his journey to the second elevator in silence, though keeping his guard up in case Isaac tried to get the jump on him.

* * *

That, however, never happened, as Isaac was currently in another one of his floor's structures, grumbling in anger as he tried to pop his wrist back into his socket after bandaging his other wounds.

"Damnit...how the hell do I..." he muttered as he forced his wrist harshly into his socket...incorrectly. This in turn caused him to scream out in pain.

"SON OF A BITCH! When I get my hands on that bastard, I'm gonna...RAAAAUGH!"

* * *

Meanwhile, a cloaked figure had been watching these events transpire via the building's security cameras and sighed to herself, pressing a button to activate a microphone as she did so.

"I need a medical staff on floor B6," emerged the same voice of the young woman from the tape recorder. "And make sure to remember the tranquilizers. I don't want a repeat of the last time I sent someone to Isaac's floor."

Once that command was issued, the woman let out an irritated sigh as she rose from her chair, inwardly cursing her collaborator as she did so. She told him countless times that bringing a virtually unstoppable evil such as Michael Myers here was a bad idea, yet he wouldn't listen. He felt that Michael's pure and uncompromising desire to shed blood, one that even surpassed Isaac's desires, made him a perfect choice to become this facility's angel of floor B7. Every time this was brought up, she'd bring the same counter-argument: What good was an angel that could not be controlled?

And it seemed as though fate may have sided with her on this occasion.

Still, she knew that, outside of that glaring flaw, Michael was indeed an ideal choice for this experiment of her collaborator's, so she opted to not completely abandon the idea of putting him back in his place. But first, she'd need to figure out exactly how to control him. So, the woman turned to a nearby table that contained a box of tapes and recording devices labeled with the GJN insignia and designated as 'classified evidence.'

She picked up one of the devices labeled 'INTERVIEW WITH LAURIE STRODE - 2018.'

* * *

The elevator doors opened, slowly revealing floor B5 to the Shape. A cold, silent, dark hospital waiting room was before his eyes. The sounds of his breathing and the blood dripping from his knife echoed across the halls as he made his way out of the elevator car. Michael took several seconds to analyze his surroundings before slowly trudging down the empty hallways.

* * *

*BEEP*

"So...Aaron and I have made several award-winning public radio expos s. Our last project shed new light on a murder case from twenty years ago. We like to reexamine incidents with an unbiased lens. I believe there's a lot to learn from the horrors you experienced."

"There's nothing to learn. There are no new insights or discoveries."

"So, is he real?"

"Who?"

"The...Boogeyman. I read you quoted-"

"You don't believe in the Boogeyman?"

"I...believe in Michael Myers, deranged serial killer, but...the Boogeyman, no."

"...Well, you should."

* * *

Door after door the masked killer passed without him even giving a second thought, completely uninterested in what lied beyond until he reached one to his right. He turned to gaze upon the open window and found a dimly-lit operating room on the other side. He attempted to slide the metal door open, only to find that it was locked. Michael tried once more, this time with both hands, and, after a few seconds, managed to break the door off its hinges.

As he observed his surroundings, Michael's attention turned towards a second door, likely one that leads to a storage closet. He wasn't too sure why, but the babysitter killer had a feeling that someone was hiding from him inside. Because of this, he found himself slowly shambling towards the door, his knife held handle upwards.

* * *

"Michael Myers is a human being who killed his sister when he was six years old. Then he came after you. We just want to know why. We want a glimpse inside his mind. That's why your story is so important."

"...My story?"

"Two failed marriages, rocky relationship with your daughter and granddaughter."

"Michael Myers murdered five people...And he's a human being we need to understand?"

* * *

The Shape's mangled left hand grasped onto the door handle and tried to open it, but it seemed as though this door was locked as well. He pulled upon the handle downward a second time with much more force than before, but his efforts were futile once more. Growing impatient, Michael started to pull the door in an attempt to break it off, hearing the metal creak as the hinges started to give way when...

_"Gotcha."_

*BANG*

Images of that woman's daughter shooting him in the shoulder suddenly came to him, causing him to release his grip on the handle. Again, the knuckles on his right hand turned white as he grasped his weapon's handle before he turned towards the first door and exited the operating room. As he left, thoughts drifted in the murderer's mind of Laurie, Karen and Allyson...

...and how, when he returned to Haddonfield, he was going to kill them all.

However, Michael's suspicions of someone hiding in the storage closet were actually real unbeknownst to him. For inside the room the Shape was trying to barge into, Daniel Dickens was patiently awaiting Michael to leave his floor, that same unsettling grin on his face from whenever he was readying himself to rip the eyeballs out of his victims. Danny knew that he was no match for Michael when news broke of his escape from floor B7 and decided that it would be in his best interest to avoid confronting him altogether. Besides, his eyes were of no interest to him. One of them didn't even function thanks to his 1978 killing spree.

No, he needed to prepare himself for one of the sacrifices. Or, more specifically, her magnanimous eyes of blue.

* * *

"Laurie, we saw him. We met with Michael. I showed him the mask...There was nothing. No response. Nothing. He won't talk to anyone. Never has, but...I think he might speak with you. So, why don't you sit down with him and say all the things you must be longing to say? Come with us, and let us help you free yourself. Please."

The sounds of a latch unlocking emanated from the recording before that of a door opening.

"Time's up. I'll accept my payment...Get out."

Nothing.

The recording gave the woman absolutely nothing that could be of any help to her. So, with an irritated sigh, she threw the device back into the box of evidence before pulling out a tape that read 'SMITH'S GROVE BOARD MEETING WITH DR. LOOMIS - 1971.'

* * *

Stone walls and two small chasms of water surrounded Michael's vision as he stepped into floor B4. The hallways were only illuminated ever so slightly by the lamps that were installed into the walls. Behind the shadows that hid his eyes, Michael carefully observed his surroundings, anticipating the master of this floor to reveal him or herself. He saw nothing but swore he could hear the faint sounds of a boy's laughter echo throughout the empty halls.

Eventually, Michael's travels lead him to a room with a series of tombstones within the floor and obvious signs that there were several people buried here. The Shape paid no mind to them, even ignoring a stone tablet with a written message inscribed upon it until he reached a rather peculiar headstone and stopped in front of it.

It seemed to have been placed here sooner than the rest. While the others were cracked and decayed, this one was freshly crafted, though seemingly placed slightly lopsided and sloppily mishappen, indicating that it was installed in a hurry. The design was generic, though it seemed to share a similar design to his sister's gravestone.

But Judith Myers was not the name designated to it.

It was his.

MICHAEL MYERS: 1957-2019

After curiously tilting his head to the side at this revelation, the babysitter murderer then kneeled and grasped both sides of the headstone, slowly prying it out of the ground. An achievement that wasn't too daunting on him considering he managed to do the same to his sister's, though the missing fingers on his left hand did make it slightly more tasking. Once the gravestone was brought upward, Michael shoved it to the ground, smashing it into several pieces, one of which smashed into another fairly recently conceived tombstone that read 'RACHEL GARDNER.'

Though, more interestingly to Michael, another managed to make it to a hidden button on the floor, the sound of something unlocking echoing through a narrow yet tall hole in the wall.

The masked killer was about to make his way to the hole when the lights suddenly shut off. That same laughter he heard earlier was heard yet again as he felt the presence of someone from behind him.

"Where do you think you're going, grave-ruiner?" a voice from the darkness questioned.

Michael slowly turned around, knife at the ready, to see a boy, no older than thirteen, wearing a pair of overalls with a white t-shirt underneath, a red scarf around his neck and carrying a shovel over his shoulder. Most striking of all though was the burlap mask that covered his face. He wasn't sure why, but the mask reminded Michael of ghost stories he used to hear long ago about a child from Warren Valley, Ohio that was said to 'enforce the rules of Halloween' to the townspeople.

This was not the case though, as Michael was now face-to-face with a child serial killer by the name of Edward Mason.

"Hey there...Michael."

* * *

*CLICK*

"Michael Myers must be removed from this sanitarium immediately. I would suggest the maximum security ward at Lichfield."

"Doctor Loomis, the decision has been made. He will remain at this institution until his twenty-first birthday when he can be tried as an-"

"But this is a minimum-security institution. The staff isn't adequately prepared."

"Prepared for what? The boy is a catatonic. He exhibits comatose behavior. No reaction to external stimuli-"

"I've spent four hours a day!... Four hours a day with this boy...Every day, for eight years."

* * *

"Do you know how much trouble I went through making that grave just for you?" Eddie angrily asked. "Why would you just smash it like that?!"

Silence was all Michael responded with as he continued to stand in front of the child, completely motionless.

"If it's because you didn't like how it looked, I was in a hurry, okay?" Eddie tried to reason. "It was only thirty minutes ago when you broke the rules. Still, if it was as ugly as you thought, then you would have been right at home with it."

Again, Michael said nothing in retaliation.

"But did you have to ruin Rachel's grave too?!" the child continued. "I needed it to be especially perfect for her. Now I've gotta start all over again!"

His tone mysteriously changed then from being enraged to lovestruck as he turned his back towards Michael.

"It was love at first sight, you know," he sighed. "I never knew the feeling of loving someone who could love you back up until now. It must be-"

His words were cut off when he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching him. The young killer turned to see Michael marching towards him, knife raised upward. He swung it down towards the surprised Eddie, only for him to jump backward with his hands and shovel behind his back, disappearing into the shadows.

"Would you let me finish?!" the child yelled from within the shadows as Michael attempted to pin-point where he was. "Then again, I'm not sure why I'm bothering to explain all this to you. Unlike you, I have an eye for what's beautiful in this wo-"

As he spoke, Michael turned towards the source of his voice to find Eddie standing atop one of the tombstones. He made his way to him and lunged his weapon towards his chest, only for the young killer to backflip away from him.

"Okay, fine then!" he shouted. "If you really wanna die THAT badly..."

His chuckle echoed across the room as the Shape made another attempt to try and find him. However, when his back was turned, Eddie lunged from the shadows and smashed his shovel against the masked killer's left leg. This caused Michael to fall to one knee as he swiped his knife in the direction of where the attack came from. When he got back to his feet and turned around, the child was nowhere to be seen.

Another devious chuckle was let out as Michael slowly turned his head to one of the headstones. He advanced in that direction and looked down from behind the grave, expecting to find Eddie hiding there, only to find absolutely nothing. The second he had done so, Eddie emerged from the darkness and swung his shovel against the Haddonfield butcher's back, causing him to stumble forward slightly. He swiftly turned around and slashed his knife once again, only to just briefly catch the child's mask as he vanished into the darkness.

"Whoops! Almost had me that time!" Eddie mocked.

Michael continued to try and hone in on his target's voice when he remembered something. When he smashed his and this 'Rachel's' graves, he seemed oddly offended. Perhaps these tombstones were like works of art to him, and maybe they can manage to lure him out of hiding. So, with this in mind, Michael turned to the headstone he was observing before and grasped it with his free hand, pushing it down into the ground, causing it to break into several pieces.

"What? Hey, hey!" Eddie shouted. "What do you think you're doing?!"

The voice this time was to Michael's right and very close by. Upon hearing it, Michael swung his weapon once again, this time finding its mark on Eddie's left shoulder. The boy cried out in pain as he emerged from the darkness and stumbled backward and onto his back. The Shape then advanced towards him, pushing over several headstones he passed by to ensure the young killer wouldn't have anywhere he could cower towards. Running low on options, Eddie swiftly got back on his feet and jumped back into the darkness, chuckling one last time before the lights came back on.

With his assailant gone, for now, Michael turned his attention back to the hole in the wall and made his way through it, all while thinking of how he was going to get out of this floor...

...and maybe kill that annoying little brat while he was at it.

* * *

After passing through what he assumed was Eddie's workshop, Michael managed to find his way into a large library that seemed to be accessible thanks to that button he managed to accidentally find. At the center was a table with several files and a few newspapers placed on it. Curiosity got the better of the Shape as he walked over to the table, noticing the headlines in the newspapers, some of which were decades old.

HELL IN THE HALLWAYS: CHAMBERLAIN HIGH SCHOOLER LEAVES 458 DEAD IN BLOODY RAMPAGE THAT BEGAN IN EWAN HIGH'S PROMENADE DANCE.

SILENT NIGHT, EVIL NIGHT: EIGHT BODIES FOUND IN ONTARIO SORORITY HOUSE. KILLER STILL AT LARGE.

KRUEGER SET FREE: ACCUSED SPRINGWOOD SLASHER RELEASED FROM CUSTODY. OFFICER WHO ARRESTED HIM DID NOT READ HIS RIGHTS.

SWEET TOOTH CAPTURED: DEATH PENALTY A SURE THING.

LAKESHORE STRANGLER SLAIN: CHARLES LEE RAY GUNNED DOWN INSIDE CHICAGO TOY STORE. STORE LATER STRUCK BY LIGHTNING AND BURNT DOWN.

Of course, eventually, as he shifted through the papers, he came across one that was dedicated to him.

NIGHT OF HORROR: ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENT MURDERS FOUR IN HADDONFIELD, ILLINOIS. SUSPECT CURRENTLY IN CUSTODY.

The masked murderer then turned to the files, briefly catching a glimpse each name before placing them on the side.

TORONTO, CANADA - BILLY(?) STATUS: AT LARGE

RUGGSVILLE, TEXAS - CAPTAIN SPAULDING. STATUS: DECEASED

CAMP BLACKFOOT, NEW YORK - CROPSY. STATUS: DECEASED

VALENTINE BLUFFS, CANADA - HARRY WARDEN/AXEL PALMER. STATUS: AT LARGE

POTH, TEXAS - JED SAWYER (LEATHERFACE) STATUS: APPREHENDED

CHAMBERLAIN, MAINE - CARRIE WHITE. STATUS: DECEASED

MONTREAL, QUEBEC - DARRYL REVOK. STATUS: PENDING (PURSUE AT OWN RISK)

SPRINGWOOD, OHIO - FREDERICK KRUEGER. STATUS: DECEASED(?)

RUGGSVILLE, TEXAS - THE FIREFLY FAMILY. STATUS: PENDING

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA - VICTOR CROWLEY. STATUS: APPREHENDED (PURSUE AT OWN RISK)

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS - CANDYMAN KILLER. STATUS: UNKNOWN

WOODSBORO, CALIFORNIA - GHOSTFACE KILLER (MULTIPLE KILLERS) STATUS: ALL CURRENTLY DECEASED

FAIRVALE, CALIFORNIA - NORMAN BATES. STATUS: PENDING

CUNNINGHAM COUNTY, NEW JERSEY - JASON VOORHEES. STATUS: AT LARGE (PURSUE AT OWN RISK)

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS - CHARLES LEE RAY. STATUS: DECEASED(?)

HUDSON FALLS, NEW YORK - ANGELA/PETER BAKER. STATUS: AT LARGE

RUGGSVILLE, TEXAS - S. QUENTIN QUALE (DR. SATAN) STATUS: UNKNOWN

NEW YORK CITY - MATTHEW CORDELL. STATUS: DECEASED(?)

UNKNOWN HOMETOWN - NEEDLES KANE (SWEET TOOTH) STATUS: APPREHENDED

BALTIMORE, MARYLAND - HANNIBAL LECTER. STATUS: APPREHENDED

HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY, JAPAN - JUNKO ENOSHIMA. STATUS: AT LARGE (PURSUE AT OWN RISK)

It was clear to Michael that the people responsible for his abduction weren't planning on stopping this experiment with just him and the other floor masters. It seemed as though they had plenty of alternatives should something unexpected happen.

It was then that he finally reached his file.

HADDONFIELD, ILLINOIS - MICHAEL MYERS. STATUS: CURRENTLY APPREHENDED (PURSUE AT OWN RISK)

The Shape's head tilted as he read further.

NAME: MICHAEL AUDREY MYERS

GENDER: MALE

BIRTHDATE: OCTOBER 19, 1957

LIVED IN 45 LAMPKIN LANE, HADDONFIELD, ILLINOIS WITH HIS PARENTS, DONALD MYERS AND EDITH MYERS, AND HIS OLDER SISTER, JUDITH MYERS, UNTIL OCTOBER 31, 1963, WHEN, AT THE AGE OF SIX, MICHAEL MURDERED HIS OLDER SISTER IN COLD BLOOD. AFTERWARD, HE WAS INCARCERATED IN SMITH'S GROVE SANITARIUM AND WAS INTENDED TO REMAIN THERE UNTIL HIS TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY WHEN HE WOULD BE TRIED AS AN ADULT. BOTH PARENTS WOULD LATER BE KILLED IN A CAR CRASH ON JANUARY 6, 1965.

FIFTEEN YEARS AFTER HIS APPREHENSION, MICHAEL ESCAPED AND WENT ON A KILLING SPREE IN HIS HOMETOWN ONLY TO BE STOPPED BY HIS CARETAKER, DOCTOR SAMUEL LOOMIS, AND A HADDONFIELD RESIDENT NAMED LAURIE STRODE. SEVERAL FALSE REPORTS LATER SURFACED OF LAURIE POTENTIALLY BEING MICHAEL'S YOUNGER SISTER. MICHAEL WAS BROUGHT BACK TO SMITH'S GROVE AND REMAINED THERE FOR FORTY YEARS WHEN, DURING A PRISON TRANSFER, MICHAEL ESCAPED YET AGAIN AND WENT ON A SECOND KILLING SPREE IN HADDONFIELD, ONLY FOR IT TO END AFTER LAURIE, HER DAUGHTER, KAREN, AND GRANDDAUGHTER, ALLYSON, TO TRAP HIM INSIDE A COMPOUND OWNED BY MS. STRODE, WHICH WAS THEN SET ON FIRE. SOMEHOW, MICHAEL MANAGED TO BREAK THROUGH A WEAK SPOT AND ESCAPE INTO THE WOODS, ONLY FOR HIM TO BE APPREHENDED ONCE AGAIN AND BROUGHT BACK TO SMITH'S GROVE, WHERE THE GLOBAL JUSTICE NETWORK EVENTUALLY ASSUMED CUSTODY OF HIM AND SET OFF TO BRING HIM TO A CURRENTLY UNDISCLOSED LOCATION.

PREPARATIONS ARE CURRENTLY UNDERWAY TO BRING HIM TO THIS ESTABLISHMENT.

As Michael read that last sentence, the lights above started to flicker as Eddie's giggling snapped him out of his mild trance. He felt like he had distracted himself long enough and needed to get back to the task at hand: Getting out of this place and killing anyone who got in his way.

* * *

Eventually, the Shape walked into a large room with a bridge that was built above a small body of water, two makeshift waterfalls to the left and right of where Michael stood and a staircase that lead to yet another grave, though this one appeared to be different from the rest. He couldn't exactly look up to figure out why that was, however, as his black eyes were fixated on something that lunged towards him from the top of the staircase the second he stepped foot inside this room.

It was that kid again.

Michael reacted by simply stepping to the left to allow Eddie to fly past him before turning around, lunging his knife towards the child's back, only to miss by an inch. Eddie was able to land on his feet after the ill-faded offensive, staring back at Michael's expressionless gaze.

"Like it?" he asked, referring to the room itself. "I specifically designed this place just for her. A beautiful tomb to rest in for all eternity...once I kill her, of course."

He was clearly referring to this girl he brought up to the babysitter murderer earlier. A detail that Michael didn't care about then and certainly didn't care about now as he stood before Eddie, practically motionless to the point that one could almost mistake him for a statue. This lack of a response prompted the young murderer to sigh in an almost disappointed manner.

"Not surprised," he said. "As I said, I have an eye for beauty, whereas you have no sense of it at all. I put my victims to rest with grace. All YOU do is stab, stab, stab like the deranged lunatic I know you-!"

He was so caught up in his rant that he, once again, failed to notice Michael making his way towards him with his knife at the ready. However, once the butcher of Haddonfield reached his target, the lights shut off yet again and Eddie vanished into the darkness, causing Michael to simply swing at thin air once he reached where the child once stood.

"Guess Mommy never taught you any manners, huh?" Eddie darkly remarked.

Upon hearing his voice, Michael instinctively swung his knife towards that direction, only for his makeshift weapon to hit the wall, the force of the impact causing the bricks installed to crack.

"You're strong, Michael, I'll give you that," Eddie admitted. "But what good's that when you can't see who you're fighting?"

Then, it hit Michael. It was clear now that the light's flickering on and off wasn't due to faulty wiring. Rather, Eddie must be the one controlling them to do so at his will. And now that he figured that out, he knew exactly how to turn the tables on this fight.

And he started by simply listening.

"I've had lots of experience digging graves in the dead of night," Eddie boasted. "Thanks to that, I can see you just FINE!"

With that last word, Eddie jumped out of the darkness, ready to ram the back end of his shovel into Michael's gut. But then, the Shape grasped onto the shovel right before it made its mark, catching the young killer completely off guard.

"Wait, what?!" he exclaimed.

Then, Michael slashed his knife across Eddie's face, cutting deeply into his mask and slicing his right eye open. The child yelled out in pain as he dropped both the shovel and a remote control he was holding onto from behind. Before he could retrieve them though, Michael raised his knife once more, forcing Eddie to leap back right before the blade could pierce his heart.

* * *

Back in the security room, the cloaked woman suddenly heard Eddie's cries of agony and turned to the screen that displayed floor B4 to her. The sight of Michael managing to overpower one of the angels of this building caused her eyes to widen.

"Damnit, damnit!" she muttered, all while the tape she was listening to continued to play.

"Doctor Loomis-"

"Michael Myers is the most dangerous patient I have ever observed."

"Doctor, there is no diagnostic evidence to support that statement."

"He's...he's covering up! This catatonia is a conscious act. There is an instinctive force within him...He's waiting."

"...For what?"

"...I don't know."

* * *

Eddie had managed to make his way up to the grave he was preparing for the girl she had mentioned, a bed of flowers resting in the hole before the headstone, as he clutched his right eye while blood continued to pour from it. As he continued his efforts to stop the bleeding, the lights shot back on. The child looked down to find Michael, shovel in one hand, controls in the other and his knife resting in one of his suit's pockets, staring up at him. Seeing this caused the young serial killer to start seething with anger.

"You're just as messy and worthless as that scumbag down in B6, you know that?!" he shouted.

The lights then shut off, no doubt thanks to Michael, as his figure instantly transitioned to that of a silhouetted shape in the shadows. Rather than be intimidated by this, however, Eddie continued to yell at Michael in a fit of rage.

"You're just a big, dumb, violent brute!" the child continued.

Suddenly, the lights came back on, revealing that Michael was no longer where he originally was, but several meters to his left...

...and much closer to Eddie.

"It doesn't matter how much bigger and stronger you are than me!" Eddie continued. "I mean, you're so stupid that you can't even kill people right!"

The lights came off again, once more illuminating the Shape with darkness. Only now did the young murderer cease his ranting and focus on what Michael was doing, trying to pin-point where exactly he was heading. It didn't make any sense to him how he was able to evade his vision, and made even worse for him was that the only sounds he could hear were the two waterfalls...

...that was, until, he started to hear something else.

Breathing.

With a gasp, Eddie looked upwards just as the lights switched back on, revealing Michael just a few inches away from him, swinging the spade of his shovel towards his head. Eddie had no time to react as the shovel made its mark, the sounds of the child's skull cracking whilst he was practically launched into the grave he had made for the girl he was so enamored with. The impact also caused his mask to be removed, revealing his red-haired face to his attacker.

He grasped the top of his head in agony while trying to make his way out of the hole when Michael emerged from above and drove the shovel into Eddie's neck. The child gasped out again, this time coughing up blood as he did so while the fresh wound in his neck started to bleed profusely. The flower bed started to turn a dark shade of crimson as Eddie struggled to free himself, only for Michael to drive his foot upon the spade, the impact managing to decapitate Eddie instantly. His eyes widened for a brief second before the life completely faded away from them and the rest of his body went completely limp.

For several seconds, the babysitter murderer looked down at his victim, taking everything in before stepping out of the grave and shoving the massive headstone atop the grave, encasing Eddie's corpse within it for the rest of eternity. Michael then looked down at the remote he still held, pressing a button that caused one of the waterfalls to cease running water, revealing an open door before the masked murderer.

* * *

"...We can make a special recommendation to the court only if we feel there is a justifiable reason to change the patient's treatment. I can see no reason why he shouldn't remain here. We have adequate facilities for his care."

"There is insufficient security here. Please. I am BEGGING you to reconsider your decision."

"Doctor Loomis, perhaps you should reconsider keeping him as your patient. We can find someone else to look after him."

"...I'll stay with him."

"Now, is there anything else you wish to say, Doctor Loomis?"

The good doctor gave no vocal answer. Rather, the sounds of his footsteps were the answer as he most likely exited the room.

*CLICK*

The tape had ended just as the woman saw Eddie's demise at the hands of Michael.

"Fuck..." she muttered as she placed her fingers on her forehead in irritation. "Fuck!"

This was getting out of hand. One angel incapacitated, another dead, and that tape didn't reveal to her a goddamn thing. She needed to act quickly if she wanted to avoid this situation from getting worse. While the tape she had just listened to didn't help, perhaps she was on to something choosing one that involved Michael's former doctor. He did study this man since he committed his first murder and likely was interviewed several times until his death in 1995. So, with that in mind, she went back to the evidence box, scanning for any and every tape that involved Doctor Samuel Loomis.

As she did so, she did attempt to calm her mind by reminding herself of this: No one who was sent here had managed to make it past floor B3. So, if anyone was to finally put a stop to this madness...

...it would most likely be Catherine.

* * *

The elevator doors opened slowly to reveal floor B3 to Michael. Now before him appeared to be a prison hallway with iron bars separating him from the rest of the floor. The Shape approached the bars slowly, ignoring a security camera placed on the ceiling when an alarm started to blare out. The sounds of several machinations from above alerted Michael, prompting him to look upward and see a minigun being deployed from the ceiling. Luckily, the masked murderer decided to hold on to Eddie's shovel after killing him and instinctively threw it into the weapon, slicing the barrels with the tool's spade, though not before the gun managed to fire two shots.

The bullets made their mark on Michael's right shoulder, a muffled grunt escaping his covered lips as he stumbled backward slightly. He brushed off the piercing pain within seconds as he grabbed his knife out of his pocket, observing his surroundings, expecting the head of this floor to reveal themselves. However, what happened instead was the sound of static coming from an intercom above the Haddonfield butcher, followed by a woman's voice.

"Hi there, Michael," the voice said.

Hearing this woman's voice caused Michael to turn to the security camera he previously ignored. The tone of the voice perplexed him. It sounded strangely upbeat and perky, though with a hint of something darker and unstable looming within.

"Darling, I must admit, I was hoping you would be able to make it this far," the voice continued. "When I heard that you were designated a sacrifice, I was practically dying with excitement over how I would be able to punish such a reviled and infamous criminal such as yourself."

Strangely enough, Michael swore that she heard this woman moan quietly. Does she get off by doing this? Clearly this individual must possess quite a sadistic mindset if that was the case.

"Oh, you're just such a vile and detestable sinner, aren't you?!" she suddenly shouted with sinister glee. "You must atone for all the atrocities you've committed, Michael! Oh, but lucky you! I've been given the duty and the pleasure of punishing you!"

Suddenly, she started bursting into a fit of maniacal laughter, prompting Michael to tilt his head in slight confusion. He had to inwardly admit, he had seen some completely unstable people during his fifty-five years confined in Smith's Grove...but were any of them THIS completely unhinged?

Then, the laughter stopped as the woman apparently regained her composure.

"Oh! Terribly sorry, I almost forgot," she continued. "How, oh how, am I going to do that when you're completely trapped? And seeing as though your surprising intuition managed to spare you from being killed by those guns earlier..."

Then a group of spotlights switched on, shining down on the Shape as audio of an audience applauding was played through the intercom and...confetti started falling?

Somehow, this predicament just kept getting more and more surreal.

"Good job, you passed!" the voice then congratulated, all while the iron bars that previously confined the babysitter murderer slid open. "Now then, let us get started, shall we, Michael?"

All finally went quiet after that, except for the Shape's muffled breathing and, eventually, his footsteps. As he traversed through the halls of this floor, he had several questions locked in the dark recesses of his mind. Who the hell was that woman? What exactly lied beyond these halls? How exactly was she planning on 'punishing' him?

And yet, amidst all that, one thing was perfectly clear to Michael. One simple thought. One simple command.

KILL HER.

* * *

"Finally," the cloaked woman said with a sigh. "I was wondering if that bitch would ever shut up."

With this newfound peace and quiet, she was now able to turn her attention to a tape that read 'DIAGNOSTIC REPORT - JANUARY 1965.'

*CLICK*

"Diagnostic report: January 7th, 1965. This is Doctor Samuel Loomis speaking. The child that I have been tasked with looking over, Michael Audrey Myers, is beginning to concern me. It has been well over a year now since he had been incarcerated in Smith's Grove, and yet he has not said so much as a word since then. He hasn't responded to any of my attempts to reach through to him with so much as any emotion. Worst of all, when I informed him of his parents' sudden and tragic deaths...nothing. No words, no violent outburst, not even so much as a single teardrop. Whatever this boy once was before that night two years ago appears to have now devolved into...into a sort of ghost, a mere shape of a human being...and I am growing more and more uneasy with what lies inside this boy's mind."

*CLICK*

* * *

Michael's trek through the hallways of B3 eventually lead him to a series of doors both to his left and to his right, as well as another iron blockade right in front of him. He attempted to open each of the doors but to no avail.

"My, you're an impatient one," the voice suddenly chimed in. "I thought that you of all sinners, Michael, would know that there's a certain procedure criminals must go through before their punishment can be assigned. Here, why don't I open up a room for you so you can get ready now?"

One of the doors to Michael's left then opened on its own, revealing a room that was clearly designed to take prison mugshots.

"I'm sure I don't need to explain this process to you, Michael," the voice continued. "Just be sure to make your mugshot nice and pretty for me. Oh, and don't worry about the camera, sweetie, I've made sure to set up a delay on it."

As he entered the room, the Shape noticed a box placed on a nearby desk. One that had a set of simply crafted name boards. He walked over to it and picked up the name board on the top of the pile. One that had his name written on it. Following the voice's instructions, he placed the game board around his neck and pressed the button on the camera. He backed into the large measurement chart on the wall right before the camera snapped and took the picture.

The voice was right about one thing. This was a process the masked killer was quite familiar with. And as the flash of the camera overtook his vision for a brief moment, his mind flashed back to the day Haddonfield's police department was tasked with snapping the mugshot of a seemingly normal six-year-old boy for stabbing his sister to death.

Once the camera projected the photograph, Michael grabbed it and held it up for the security camera to see. The sounds of iron bars sliding could be heard from outside the room. He walked out to see the blockade from earlier opening itself to him, allowing him to advance onward. As he did so, he noticed that the walls had several crude drawings etched upon them. The Haddonfield butcher could make out the drawings as a stick figure sitting in a chair, a face with x's where its eyes should be as well as what seemed to be small gas clouds, a syringe and a woman's face done in pink as opposed to black. Most likely the face of the woman in the intercom.

"Like my drawings?" said woman asked. "They're all of the glorious punishments that await you."

Silence was the only answer Michael gave her, prompting her to grunt in annoyance.

"Oh, everyone's a critic," she muttered. "Anyway, Michael, I'm giving you a choice. You see, there are many ways to punish a sinner like you. And I have quite a variety of painful punishments that lie beyond. But, if you'd like to go back to spending the rest of your life rotting in a cell, that's always on the table."

Again, the voice was only met with silence as Michael started to make his way to a door that lied in front of him.

"Aw, that's too bad," she continued. "I was hoping I'd be able to keep you forever."

A mad cackle echoed through the hallway as Michael started to open the door to the next room. Inside appeared to be an execution chamber with an electrical chair seated to the killer's left, a curtain separating the rest of the room to his right and a locked gate in front of him. He took several seconds to observe his newfound surroundings before stepping inside.

His first course of action was to attempt to open the gate, but that seemed to be for not as it wouldn't so much as even budge. Then, he turned to observe the electric chair. No doubt this woman was expecting him to get onto it, but why would he even consider attempting something such as that? With that decision made, he turned to the curtain, thinking there might be a way to open the gate hidden behind it.

But as he started to make his way to there, another minigun descended from the ceiling and fired several rounds at the masked murderer, the bullets made of rubber this time. The impact of each forced him back towards the electric chair, eventually forcing himself onto it. Metal clasps then wrapped around his wrists, forcing them onto the arms of the chair as several spotlights shined onto Michael as the sound of a drumroll started to play. The second it reached its end, a helmet came up from behind the chair and forced itself onto Michael's head.

As the Shape struggled to free himself, music started playing as a television screen slowly descended from the ceiling for him to see. It displayed what appeared to be a chibified woman with the words 'Cathy's Show' colorfully displayed beside her. The screen then transitioned to a woman in her late twenties to early thirties that had blonde dyed pink hair and was wearing a rectangular hat, a black short-sleeved blazer with a red tie and a mini pencil skirt.

She was the individual who was previously communicating with Michael through the intercoms. Her name: Catherine Ward.

"Hi!" she greeted. "I decided to join you via this television screen. After all, what good's a trial without a judge?"

Michael ceased his struggles briefly to look up upon the screen and see the one who had trapped him here with his own black eyes.

"I'm Cathy!" she introduced. "It's about time you and I got to know each other."

Without warning, an audio clip of an audience cheering played through the speakers, all while the Shape continued his efforts to free himself from Cathy's death trap.

"My, my, it seems as though our guest of honor has found himself in our electric chair! Why don't we take this opportunity to see just how much retribution that body of his can take?" she asked the imaginary crowd. "Oh, this is so exciting! It isn't every day we get such a celebrity to punish! I think my heart's about to beat right out of my chest any moment now! I JUST CAN'T WAIT!"

As she giggled to herself and clutched both arms around her chest tightly, Cathy's eyes suddenly widened with realization.

"Oh, oh dear," she said in a flustered tone. "Silly me. I've gotten so caught up in my anticipation that I completely forgot one of the most important elements of any execution. The audience!"

The crazed woman then brought up what appeared to be a rider's crop with a series of buttons on the handle and pressed one of them. This, in turn, caused the curtains that were in front of the electric chair to slowly reveal to the Shape what was on the other side. It was about two dozen wooden mannequins seated to where their eyes lingered upon that who was to be executed before them. Whirring sounds were suddenly heard as they lifted their heads upwards slightly, revealing a most surprising sight to Michael.

"See anyone familiar, Michael?" Cathy questioned.

Plastered on each of the dolls' faces were crudely cut out printed cardboard that showed the several faces the killer knew all too well. There were the faces of those he had slain, such as Bob Simms, Annie Brackett, Lynda Van Der Klok, Aaron Korey, Dana Haines, Ranbir Sartain and even his sister, Judith Myers. Alongside them were the faces of those his murders had impacted throughout his fifty-six-year killing spree, such as Sheriff Leigh Brackett, Tommy Doyle, Lindsey Wallace, Doctor Loomis...

...and Laurie Strode.

"A criminal's value is determined by the hate-filled stares of the onlookers who bare witness to his execution," Cathy darkly stated. "Their eyes will bestow sweet justice upon you."

The Haddonfield butcher then continued his efforts to free himself as the maniacal woman continued.

"Okay, boys and girls! It's time for this sinner to face his judgment. I'd like you all to watch closely. Trust me, you wouldn't want to miss the satisfying sight of this heinous murderer who's caused oh so much pain to you all writhing in agony, would you?"

Almost on cue, the dolls' heads started to shift from side to side.

"Alright, here we go! Are you ready, Michael?"

No response. Just the continuation of the masked killer's efforts to set himself free.

"It's...showtime!"

With that, Cathy slammed her heel on top of a triangular button with the word 'Heaven' printed on it. The gages of the nearby machinery started to turn as several thousand volts of electricity surged their way onto the electric chair...and then into Michael's body. The killer's body started to convulse out of control as parts of his flesh underneath his boiler suit began to burn.

And yet, despite the unbearable pain, he did not scream.

For he was not going to give this woman that pleasure.

Fifteen agonizing seconds passed before the assault on his body finally ceased and his body went limp. Smoke began to emanate from his body all while Cathy observed closely.

"Oh, is he dead already?" she asked herself.

It seemed that way at first, as Michael's body was completely motionless for quite a long period of time...only for his head to suddenly shoot upwards as he resumed his struggle for freedom, much to Cathy's surprise.

"Very impressive!" she commended. "Any normal person would've been fried for sure. Your reputation as a monster truly precedes you, Michael."

She then started to pour herself a cup of tea as a crazed look in her eyes slowly started to take over.

"That's exactly why I'm going to zap you over and over again! I want to see just how much punishment the perfect criminal can take before its just too much. Do try and hold on as long as possible, dear. The longer a sinner desperately tries to stay alive, the more punishment they receive before Satan finally collects his prize!"

With that same maniacal cackle, Cathy slammed her heal on the button again, allowing Michael to be shocked once more.

* * *

*CLICK*

"Doctor Samuel Loomis, January 22nd, 1979. Do you wish to give a statement regarding your former patient, Michael Myers?"

"My suggestion is termination. Death is the only solution for Michael. There's nothing to be gained from keeping evil alive."

* * *

Michael continued to fight the pain as he thrashed more and more violently, but even his limits were slowly starting to be reached the longer this went on. He knew that if he didn't find a way to bust out of this chair soon, he was going to die.

* * *

"A shot of sodium thiopental would render him unconscious. I'll be with him to make sure his life is extinguished."

* * *

As the electricity continued to surge through the babysitter murderer's body, he focused his eyes on the mannequins. Of the stares of all those he had affected with his murderous ways. But while his disdain most certainly spread towards all of them, there was one his anger was completely and uncompromisingly focused on.

And so, he set his eyes on one specific doll.

He set his eyes...on HER.

* * *

"My ear on his chest to hear for myself that his vitals no longer function, and immediately incinerate the body."

* * *

Meanwhile, Cathy continued to watch this sight with that same level of devious glee whilst taking a sip of her tea. She couldn't help but let out a chuckle as Michael yet again attempted to free himself.

"Driven mad by his own regret, the sinner inwardly wails in pain and begs for death," she said. "A pitiful, hopeless display of rage and sufferi-"

She stopped, however, upon hearing a loud cracking sound emanating from the execution room.

"Hm?"

* * *

"It needs to die..."

* * *

The wooden arms of the chair slowly started to crack as Michael continued to thrash his arms upward, all while maintaining his gaze on the doll that had Laurie's face plastered on it.

* * *

"...IT NEEDS TO DIE!"

* * *

With one final tug, the arms and metal clamps of the electric chair snapped off, allowing the Shape to get back on his feet and pull the helmet off of his head before tossing it right into the Tommy Doyle mannequin. The electrical surges had managed to take its toll on the masked murderer as he stumbled slightly while trying to pick his knife back up, but he quickly managed to shake it off before he started to make his way to the dolls. He knew that they weren't real, but staring at those faces for so long whilst being electrocuted had made that simple command run rampant throughout his mind.

KILL

He started by driving his knife through Bob's chest once again.

KILL

Then he sliced the head of Sheriff Brackett clean off.

KILL

He slammed the body of Aaron against Lynda before slicing his way through Lindsey, Annie and Doctor Sartain.

KILL. KILL. KILL.

Soon enough, he had managed to leave every single mannequin smashed, sliced, stabbed or a mixture of all three.

Except for one.

Laurie's.

Without warning, Michael grabbed the doll by the shoulders and forced it on the ground. He then grabbed his knife and started to stab the mannequin with such ferocity that it eventually caused the entire knife, handle and all, to go right through the wooden doll and into the floor, cracking the doll in half as he did so and causing its head to roll away from the Shape.

As he got back on his feet, Michael's black eyes gazed down at the head of Laurie's doll, almost as though he was completely entranced by his horrific action...until that woman's laughter snapped him right out of it and caused him to turn to the screen yet again.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" she shouted with devious glee. "Not only has your stubborn will to live kept you alive AND manage to set you free but even in what could have been your final moments, you didn't even try to suppress your evil impulses! I don't think I saw a single trace of regret for your sins in your eyes! In fact, you seemed to have embraced them! Oh, it will be so glorious when I finally-!"

Her words were cut short when Michael threw the head of the Loomis doll right into the television screen, shattering it upon impact. Unfortunately for him, though, the intercoms were still working just fine.

"Heh, heh, you know what, out of respect for your hard work, and because the next room just won't suite the punishment you certainly deserve, why don't we just skip it and go straight for the grand finale?"

That same sound of an audience cheering echoed through the execution chamber.

"So I'm a touch impatient to get my hands on you. Sue me. Besides, I have a feeling that your inevitable suffering is going to suit you very well, Michael."

The last thing the Shape heard from her was her all too familiar laughter while the iron bars that would lead him closer to his goal opened. Still saying nothing, Michael slowly made his way towards the opened gate.

* * *

It was all the same.

"He became an obsession with me until I realized that there was nothing within him, neither conscience nor reason that wasn't...even remotely human."

Dozens of interviews and all Doctor Loomis' archived voice informed the hooded woman was what she had already known.

"You're talking about him as if he were a human being...That part of him died years ago."

That Michael Myers was pure evil and possessed no hopes of being controlled for her collaborator's ambitions.

"I prayed...that he would burn in Hell...but in my heart, I knew that Hell would not have him."

It was practically like a broken record at this point, and the woman was growing more and more restless by the moment. It almost looked as though she was going to throw a tantrum at a moment's notice.

Still, there was one last tape she had of Doctor Loomis. One made in January of 1995. Just a few months before the good doctor passed away. With this being probably her last shot, the woman loaded the tape all with one thought in her mind.

'At least give me a goddamn reason why he kills. Maybe that could lead to something.'

* * *

As the Shape continued to slowly and silently skulk throughout the darkened hallways, he noticed a faint smell in the air. A most repugnant scent that suggests this area hadn't been cleaned for some time now. Then, the masked killer felt something grasp his leg. He looked down to see a nearly skeletal, malnourished hand reach from the iron bars beside him. A raspy moan soon followed.

"Kill...me..."

It was clear to Michael that this nearly dead man was one of Catherine's playthings. This was obviously what she meant by 'I was hoping I'd be able to keep you forever.' To have him be tortured day in and day out as 'punishment' for his 'sins.' The babysitter murder observed the man who begged to die by his hands, noticing that a portion of his face appeared to have been skinned off, one of his eyes was hanging out of his head, his arms had scars that were the results of both bullet wounds and stabbings and that he must not have eaten in several days.

"Please...kill...me..." he repeated.

Michael's head tilted curiously upon hearing that once more. He was used to his victims begging for him to spare their lives. Pleas that always fell upon deaf ears. It wasn't every day that someone would freely come to him and actually ask him to kill them.

Still, it was a request he was perfectly fine with obliging.

The masked killer then pulled his leg away from the bars, causing the body of the poor man to slide up against them before Michael slipped his right hand, butcher knife in place, through the openings. One stab in the back was all it took for the decrepit man to go limp, his blood splashing against the prison bars.

"Hey!" Cathy's voice suddenly shouted, for once without that sickly gleeful tone. "Now that was just rude! How would YOU like it if I came into your house and stabbed YOUR pets?"

Michael didn't even so much as look up to the security cameras. He was still observing the corpse of his newest addition to his ever-growing body count.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" Cathy questioned. "Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that in the fifty-six years since you killed your sister you haven't even so much as asked what time it was."

That giddy tone of her's returned the second she finished that second with a bubbly yet sinister giggle.

"Not to worry, darling, I'm sure I can change that in due time," she continued. "Anyway, remember, you can still always spend your life in a cell, but after how rude you were a few seconds ago, this'll be the last time I'll make that offer."

Only then did Michael finally gaze upward to one of the nearby cameras. However, yet again, the madwoman was only met with silence as his answer.

"Tsk, how disappointing. Oh well. Just keep going straight, Michael, and you should reach the next area soon."

And Michael did just that. He continued along the path towards whatever this woman was planning for him next, eventually reaching a small room with a circular table right in front of the door that likely leads to the final room in Cathy's maze of horrors. Up above was a balcony, separated from the room by a clear, glass wall. The Shape's attention wasn't on that, however. Rather, it was what was on the table.

Two syringes, each filled with an identical liquid inside of them.

Before Michael could mentally try and figure out what this meant, more music started to play and the sound of a door opening from above was heard. The masked killer then looked up to see Cathy herself standing atop the balcony.

"A pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face, Michael!" she said. "Anyway, this one's real easy. Just give yourself a little injection and the door should open for you."

To emphasize her point, she pointed her rider's crop down at the two needles in front of the masked murderer, causing his haunting gaze to return to them.

"One has vitamins, the other is filled with, well, let's just say something that isn't quite as nourishing," Cathy furthered. "And just in case you wanted me to tell you which one is which, too bad, my lips are sealed. Not that it would matter, I may or may not have forgotten which one is which. Anyway, just inject every last drop of one of them and I'll be more than happy to open the door! Best of luck, filthy sinner!"

With a maddening cackle, she proceeded to turn and leave the balcony, leaving Michael alone once again. He looked down at the syringes, then back up to the sealed door before him. Even with his abnormal strength, the chances of him forcing it open were slim. Besides, there were two miniguns stationed nearby at the ceiling, so he concluded that Cathy would have him shot the instant he stepped towards the door.

So, his attention went back to the needles. He carefully analyzed the both of them, trying to find even the slightest clue that could tell him which one had the vitamins. Unfortunately, the liquids inside were completely identical to one another, leaving Michael with only one choice if he wished to be free: Gamble.

He looked back and forth at both needles for several seconds before finally coming to a decision. He grabbed the one that sat on his right and injected it into his left arm, pushing the liquids inside his bloodstream. Once the syringe was emptied, the door before him opened automatically. Wasting no time, the Shape tossed the empty syringe to the floor and started to walk through the open doorway and into another hallway.

The signs that the murderer had chosen poorly was evident immediately. He stumbled slightly as he lost his balance, his breathing got heavier and heavier by the second and his vision was slowly beginning to blur. Michael placed his free hand onto his forehead as he continued to struggle with the simple task of walking, his head feeling like it was spinning out of control. In the back of his evil mind, Michael started to grow a sneaking suspicion that, whatever poison that woman tricked him into injecting into his body, it was going to kill him.

And now, all Michael could think about was taking her with him if it's truly coming down to that.

He then saw a doorway at the end of the hall and regained his composure as best he could before trudging towards it, kicking it off of its hinges. The Shape stepped into the room, empty and with several dried up bloodstains practically coating it in red. In front of him was another glass barrier, this time separating the killer from a set that resembled a living room from the 50's as well as a series of monitors and a control panel.

His mind then shifted towards figuring out where that woman was this time, when, suddenly, a gunshot from above caught him off guard and a bullet pierced through his back and out his abdomen. A muffled grunt escaped Michael's masked lips as he fell to one knee.

Then, the laughter returned.

The babysitter murderer looked up to see Cathy standing in between the set and the monitors, her thumb pressing a button on her rider's crop.

"Hi!" she greeted. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you made it this far, Michael, but I'm afraid this is as far as you'll go. You've entered my firing squad room!"

Hearing that caused Michael to look upward to see several miniguns perched on the ceiling.

"You're surrounded with more miniguns that you can swing a knife at!" Cathy continued as she turned to her rider's crop and started to nuzzle against it. "And the best part is, I can control each and every one of them with this baby right here."

Just as the Shape managed to get back on his feet, one of the miniguns fired another bullet, this one striking the back of his left leg and forcing him back to his knees.

"Oops! Finger slipped," Cathy darkly remarked with a giggle.

The butcher of Haddonfield, however, got back up much quicker this time and started to clumsily trudge up to the glass, slamming his knife against it as he did.

"Aw, what's the matter? Feeling a little dopey? Those drugs must be really throwing you for a loop."

As Michael raised his knife once again, more bullets rained down upon him, two of them hitting him in the chest and causing him to fall over backward, dropping his weapon as he did so.

"You know, I always knew that you were quite the criminal, Michael, but so far you've been exceeding even my wildest expectations! The way that you surrender yourself to your sinful ways without any hesitation, it's been taking my breath away just thinking about it! I dare even say, I think I may have finally found him! The perfect criminal!"

Then, the glass doors opened, allowing Cathy to step into the firing squad room and approach the downed serial killer.

"And the perfect criminal...deserves the perfect punishment."

With a sinister chuckle, she kicked the knife away from Michael just as he tried to reach for it before driving her left heel into one of the bullet wounds on his right shoulder.

"Good thing I remembered to put those toxins in both of those syringes. I needed you nice and weak for our fun to properly begin!"

She kicked Michael across the side of his head, causing him to slide a few feet away from the madwoman.

"But, there's still one thing missing. I've always dreamed that the two of us would meet like this, and I've always wanted to be the one that could finally get the infamous Michael Myers to do one simple thing for me."

She then casually began to stride towards the downed Shape.

"Before you die...I demand that you say something to me."

Once the crazed woman reached Michael, she grabbed him by the hairs of his mask.

"And I think I know just the thing I want to hear from you."

She then proceeded to lift Michael's face closer to hers.

"What made you do it?"

* * *

*CLICK*

"When Michael Myers was six-years-old, he stabbed his sister to death. For years, he was locked up. Locked away in Smith's Grove Sanitarium...But he escaped. And suddenly, Halloween was another word for mayhem."

* * *

"What, pray tell, caused a seemingly normal, six-year-old boy to, out of nowhere, stab his big sister to death?" Cathy continued as she smashed her heeled foot against Michael's stomach. "Did the voices in your head tell you to do it?"

The maniacal woman then backed away from the masked murderer, directing her guns to shoot him twice in his left arm.

"Did you think you were under the influence of a curse?" she asked.

Suddenly, a gasp of realization escaped her lips as her eyes widened slightly.

"Oh, of course! What do most serial killers have in common? Why, they come from a dysfunctional family, of course!"

She approached Michael once more and slapped him across his masked face with her crop...

"Was that it, Michael? Did Daddy come home drunk and hit you one too many times?"

...then drove her heel into the bullet wound in his chest...

"Was Mommy too busy stripping to spend any time with you?"

...then punched him in the face repeatedly...

"You know what, I'll even accept that your sister was too busy whoring herself to her boy-toy that she forgot to take poor little Mikey trick-or-treating!"

...again, and again, and again.

* * *

"For over thirty years, I've been obsessed to find out what was going on inside of him. It's been my life work...and my ultimate failure."

* * *

"C'mon! Say something!" Cathy shouted as she slammed Michael's head against the concrete floor. "SAY SOMETHING!"

She was so caught up in trying to cause as much pain to the Haddonfield butcher as possible, that she failed to notice him slowly reaching for his knife.

* * *

"For three-and-a-half decades, I combed through all of his records. I spoke with anyone who ever knew him as a child. I tried everything in my power to answer just one simple question:...Why?"

"...And...if you don't mind me asking, Doctor Loomis...what exactly did you find?"

"...Nothing."

* * *

Just as Cathy was about to slap Michael again with her crop, the masker murderer grabbed his knife and swung it at her hand, slicing off several fingers and forcing her to drop her tool. She barely had any time to register the pain she was now in when Michael proceeded to stab her in the stomach before slicing it open. The madwoman gasped in shock as blood started to pour out of her wound and her entrails started to hang out slightly.

* * *

Back at the security room, the hooded woman heard the gasp and, her eyes widening in terror, instantly rushed over just in time to see Michael slicing Cathy's stomach open.

"No, no, goddamnit, NO!" she shouted, all while the tape continued to play.

"Michael Myers came from a completely normal family. One who loved him and nourished him as any family would. Anyone who knew him always described him as a normal, happy, little boy. They never could have even imagined what...what was taking shape inside him!"

* * *

The second Cathy attempted to get her intestines back inside her body, Michael smashed the back of his fist across her face, causing her to stumble into the glass wall. Her blood smeared across it as she turned her head in time to see the Shape moving his upper body to where he was sitting upright.

* * *

"This force, this thing that lived inside of him simply came from nowhere one fateful Halloween night and it...it grew inside him...contaminating his soul!"

* * *

Only now noticing she had dropped her rider's crop, she desperately tried to force the glass doors open as Michael approached her, fighting the pain she felt in her bloody stumps where her right fingers use to be and the open wound in her stomach, blood pouring out of it by the second. Unfortunately for her, it was of no use, as the doors wouldn't so much as budge by the time Michael reached her and grabbed her by her hair.

She tried in vain to free herself from his iron grip before the killer lunged her face right into the door, cracking it and breaking Cathy's nose in the process. He did so three more times, the cracks getting bigger and more of Cathy's blood staining it, before, with the fourth lunge, the doors completely shattered. The shards managed to somehow avoid the madwoman's neck, but one did manage to slice her left eye. She cried out in pain right before Michael pinned her up against the concrete wall.

As he tightened his grip around Cathy's neck, all while she continued her futile struggles, Michael looked down to see Cathy's rider's crop right next to him. He bent down, maintaining his hold on his victim and picked it up with his mangled left hand. He then allowed Cathy to fall to the ground as he moved the crop to his right hand. Too weak to get back on her feet, Cathy could only look up and see the Shape gazing down at her.

A chill ran down the madwoman's spine upon seeing those two, black eyes.

The Devil's eyes.

* * *

"There is no deeper meaning behind this...this monster's ways! The simple truth of the matter is...Michael Myers is, and always will be...pure evil."

* * *

Suddenly, Michael rammed the crop right into Cathy's damaged left eye, completely obliterating it in the process. The crazed woman screamed in agony as she grasped the crop, seething in anger as the Haddonfield butcher slowly started to back away from her.

"You...vile, detestable, wretched sinner!" she shouted as she attempted to get her tool out of her eye, then, oddly to Michael, had her lips twist back into that maddening grin of hers. "Oh, I love it! I LOVE IT! You better get ready, Michael. Your day of reckoning is here! Go ahead and keep making that stupid look all you want! It's not going to matter! I'LL MAKE SURE YOU DIE SCREA-!"

Her insane rambling was only silenced when a bullet shot right through her forehead and exited the back of her skull.

She was so caught up in her tangent that she failed to notice that, when Michael drove her tool into her eye, one of the buttons was pressed to activate the miniguns.

All of them.

And they were targeted right at her.

An onslaught of bullets followed immediately afterward, shredding bits and pieces off of Cathy's body with every hit, all while Michael simply stood by and watched the carnage unfold before him. The wall behind here was practically being painted red by the second as her flesh and organs were being completely decimated. Then, after fifteen grueling seconds, the miniguns finally ceased firing.

All that was left of Cathy was a mangled, blood-stained skeleton lying in a massive, crimson puddle that was mixed with bone fragments and even one or two pieces of her brain next to her skull. Michael noticed that her rider's crop was still lodged into her eye socket. He then approached the corpse of his newest victim and grabbed it, looking down at it for several seconds before letting it fall to the floor, where he proceeded to smash it with one stomp of his boot.

Once that was done, the Shape made his way to the shattered glass door and exited the firing squad room, approaching the control panel. He carefully observed it before pressing a red button that caused the door next to the panel to open on its own.

* * *

Upon seeing another angel fall before her eyes, the hooded woman shook with anger before suddenly grabbing the evidence box and tossing it into the screens, shattering them upon impact.

"Fuck...Fuck! FUCK!" she shouted.

It was obvious that she had had enough of this disaster continuously unfolding. Made even worse was the haunting message the late Doctor Loomis had given her. She had allowed Michael to continue to run amuck through this building for nothing. All in the vain hopes of foolishly trying to control him as her collaborator intended. She should have just heeded her initial protests and doubts and tried to end this the second Michael stepped foot in floor B6.

She then swiftly turned around and exited the security room with a new goal in mind: End this.

Now.

* * *

The elevator doors opened once more, revealing floor B2 and a suspiciously mundane looking hallway to the Shape. The only thing that stood out was that candles were illuminating the halls rather than the usual lamps. Michael's head tilted in a perplexed manner, obviously having been so used to the absolute madness he had to endure. He then stepped out of the elevator car, advancing through the hall on high alert, gripping his bloodied knife tightly as he did so.

His travels eventually lead him to a door placed to his left. Michael reached for the handle and turned it, expecting yet another locked door like he tended to come across, but that was not the case. This time, the door opened with absolutely no opposition. Somehow, this was an oddity to the masked killer, having been used to the complications the other floor masters gave him.

He couldn't help but wonder...What was this master's game?

A room shrouded by darkness greeted Michael as he stepped inside, maneuvering through the shadows with ease. Then, the sounds of a pipe organ echoed throughout before the candles on the walls somehow started to light themselves. As the light slowly started to cast out the dark, the room the Shape found himself in revealed itself as something that resembled the interior of a church. In front of him were two metal doors and a wooden pulpit with a book placed atop it.

Assuming this book might have a clue of sorts as to how to get out of here, Michael began to step towards it, only for one of the candles to fall to the floor, setting the red carpet ablaze...for all of a second before the inferno turned into a thick, purple haze that began to overtake the room. The scent of it was oddly sweet as it began to run through Michael's lungs, dizzying him and causing him to fall to his knees.

Then, upon blinking, the smoke was gone and the babysitter murderer was standing upright just a few inches away from the pulpit. Confused, Michael looked around, expecting the floor master to reveal him or herself, but nothing came about. So, he opted to return to what he was previously attempting to do. He looked down at the book that was now before him and started to read in silence.

"The ones God desires must be clean and devoid of falsehood. So who are you? Ask yourself that question. Are you a desirable sacrifice, or are you an angel? Or even if you are neither, if you truly hope to find God's salvation, reveal and confess all your sins."

The Shape noticed something appear on the door to his right. A sheet of paper plastered on it. Michael turned and walked towards it to read what it said.

"What is Thy name?"

Of course, Michael did not answer. And his patience was starting to run thin. So, rather than obey the message's request, the butcher of Haddonfield simply tore the sheet off and forced the doors to open with his bare hands.

More purple smoke greeted him the instant he stepped inside. Candles to his left and right giving off a most ominous atmosphere as he approached a small chai seated in the middle of the hallway. Placed on it was a small, empty, glass vial. Michael bent down to pick it up before noticing something being written above him in mid-air.

"Spit out your sins."

A confused Michael's head tilted at the sight, only to then notice something being written to his right.

"And that will be your proof."

Then, something behind him at the other end of the hall.

"What do you feel as you gaze upon the proof?"

Then, something to what was originally the killer's left.

"The doors opened so that you can know the stains you bear."

These four sentences barely gave Michael any time to wonder just what they meant when they started to glow a deep red, encircling the masked murderer at a rapid pace before turning into that same violet smoke. More of the haze practically exploded beneath Michael, blinding him for a few seconds before fading and revealing a mirror on the wall to him. Seconds passed with the Shape simply staring at his reflection before more sentences started to write themselves in the mirror.

"Look at yourself."

"A sacrifice, or a lost sheep...or a demon?"

"The only thing God wants is..."

"...you without lies."

Both of Michael's hands started to grip the vial and his knife tightly in frustration. What lies was this thing referring to? 'Look at yourself.'? All he could see in this reflection was him and only him.

As his irritations grew, he failed to notice the smoke developing beneath him as the writings continued.

"Are you just an ignorant?"

"Or are you hiding the true yourself?"

Then, the mirror began to crack.

"Here is the Confessional."

It cracked again...

"To leave..."

...and again...

"...collect your own pieces..."

...and again...

"...and know the true yourself."

Suddenly, the mirror shattered into several hundred pieces out of nowhere before floating all around Michael as he thought back to one of the sentences.

'Collect your own pieces.'

Perhaps...perhaps if he started to collect these shards...was that what it was trying to get him to do? And if so, what purpose did it have? Even still, if it meant his freedom, he'd be willing to oblige. So, with that in mind, he placed his knife back in his pocket and grabbed the shard closest to him.

The darkness that previously engulfed this room then faded whilst the writings returned, forming on the frame where the mirror once was.

"Spit out your sins."

"If you don't know..."

"...tear up and drag them out."

The violet haze began to engulf the Shape once more, blinding him before fading into blackness. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a triangular-shaped room, writing to his left. He turned to read it, when, out of nowhere, a voice echoed from the depths of nothingness.

"Can you recognize your sins, Michael Myers?" a male voice questioned as more writings emerged from the three walls that surrounded the serial killer. "If they are blacked out, then the only explanation is that you have done so yourself. Did you erase them? Or did you not realize that they were sins? If you've lost your own sins, then make them complete again. You must accept every sin that flows forth."

The walls shrunk down into the floor as it started to morph from a triangular shape to that of a square. Four violet walls then rose upward, each revealing a framed picture of someone before the babysitter murderer. Michael slowly observed each of them, recognizing the faces of them all. He himself knew them not by name, but they were of the four lives he had claimed on Halloween night, 1978.

Christopher Hastings.

Annie Brackett.

Robert Simms.

Lynda Van der Klok.

"This is your confessional," the voice continued. "Spit out your sins. Accept your sins. Tear up and drag them out. Tear up and drag them out!"

He continued to repeat that same phrase, slowly being joined by the voices of Michael's four victims.

"Tear up and drag them out! Tear up and drag them out!"

So this must have been these 'sins' Michael was told about. His murders. Still, one thing lingered in the killer's mind: What made this person think he had tried to lose them? To black them out into the deepest, darkest depths of his mind? He knew exactly what he was doing taking life after life during three separate Halloweens. He knew that he would be looked down upon. Deemed a monster for his atrocities.

And he was perfectly at peace with that.

The evil within superseded any and all self-consciousness.

So why was this floor master continuing to waste his time?

As he wondered about the answer to that very question, he failed to realize that something was emerging from Lynda's portrait. It was the ghostly, topless form of Lynda herself with a bruised neck from where Michael strangled her with a phone cord. It was exactly the way she appeared the moment she died.

But with one difference: Now SHE had a phone cord in her hands.

Suddenly, while Michael was distracted, Lynda swiftly wrapped the phone cord around her killer's neck and tightly pulled back on it. Michael reacted by grasping the cord in an attempt to free himself. As he did so, three more ghostly figures emerged from the other three portraits. Christopher and Robert, both with large, bloodied holes in their chests, and Annie, whose throat was slit open.

"Tear up and drag them out!" they, along with Lynda, shouted. "Tear up and drag them out!"

In his ensuing struggle to free himself from Lynda's grip, Michael had accidentally managed to allow his knife to fall out of his pocket and land in front of Annie. Grinning sadistically, Annie picked up the knife and raised it upward, aiming it directly above her murderer's chest. The killer continued to struggle to both breathe and free himself when he noticed that he still had that glass shard he had gotten earlier. Acting upon instinct, Michael swung it backward towards Lynda, stabbing her in the neck as he did so.

Blood started to gush out of Lynda's neck as she released Michael to try and stop the bleeding. Now freed, the butcher of Haddonfield managed to grab Annie by the arm right before his knife made its mark on his chest. He took the knife from her and stabbed her in the stomach, causing her to fall to the ground, dead once more, before Lynda joined her back into the afterlife.

Now with only Christopher and Bob left, Michael slashed Christopher's throat open as he charged towards him before grabbing Bob by the shoulders and forcing him to the wall, just as he did forty-one years ago. This time, however, as Bob yet again struggled, Michael simply grasped his neck and snapped it like a twig with one, swift motion.

Michael had no time to admire his handiwork, however, as all four corpses suddenly exploded into that same purple mist, bringing Michael back to that same triangular room he was in before. This time, though, there was one picture hanging on one of the walls.

A painting of two lambs. A male and a female.

Siblings perhaps?

A brother and...his sister?

"Michael..." a sad, groggily voice called out.

Hearing that voice caused Michael's head to shoot upwards in surprise. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

His sister. Judith Myers.

"Mi...chael..." she repeated.

Suddenly, a bloodied hand reached out to the masked murderer. The Shape backed away slightly as more of this ghostly body emerged from the painting. Slowly, but surely, the form of Judith's topless, blood-stained body crawled out of the picture before falling to the ground. She looked up to her younger brother with tears flowing from her eyes.

"Why...Why, Michael?" she asked, clearly choked up. "Why...would you...do this...to me?"

She began to crawl towards her killer, blood staining the carpets she dragged herself upon, all while Michael continued to look down at his sister.

"Did I...did I make you mad?" Judith asked. "I...I was going to take you trick-or-treating that day...I...I promise...Was it that? Michael...whatever it was...I'm sorry! Michael, I'm sorry!"

She gazed upon her brother's eyes, clearly hoping for any sign of forgiveness. But her still heart dropped when she took one look at those piercing, black eyes.

There was no sign of forgiveness.

No remorse.

No regret.

No pity.

Nothing.

Judith's ill-faded apology was instead met with Michael raising his knife upward, ready to commit this most terrible deed all over again, as the tears started to flow from his sister's ghostly eyes once more.

"Michael...No, please! MICHAEL!"

The knife came swiftly down upon her back as she screamed out in pain yet again. Michael then pulled his knife out and continued to stab his sister, each time causing more and more blood to stain the painting she came out of.

He finally stopped after stabbing her a ninth time.

Just like he did over five decades ago.

Once Judith's body went limp a second time, the Shape turned his attention to the blood-stained painting before looking down at the glass vial he acquired earlier. If these awful deeds he has committed were indeed 'sins,' then his sister's blood would be proof. Proof to the floor master that he, in fact, has 'accepted' them. So, with that in mind, he placed the bottle bellow the painting, blood dripping off the frame and into the bottle.

Another purple haze then transported Michael to a darkened hallway, candles illuminating it ever so slightly yet again. He started to walk forward, paying no mind to the mysteriously bloodied footprints he was leaving behind before making it to a closed door. The masked killer could hear the sounds of a pipe organ once more, convincing him to push the doors open to see what was on the other side.

The interior of a chapel greeted his eyes as he approached the instrument that was making the harmonious sound he had heard...playing itself strangely. In front of it was another pulpit with another open book for Michael to read in silence.

"What is it that you need to confess? And are you certain that your heart truly desires to be redeemed from sin? Can you bear to lift up your iniquities to the Lord as they are now? More importantly, you lack the ability to recognize a sinful heart. If you wish to be saved, reveal your impurities here in this room."

As he wondered just what that meant, Michael noticed a painting nearby. A painting of Mary with the wings and halo of an angel as she hovered over the kingdom of Heaven. He started to approach it while looking down at the vial that contained his sister's blood, an idea forming in his head. Once he reached the painting, he lunged the vial forward, allowing the blood to splash all over the painting.

This action seemingly caused every single key on the organ to press themselves, the sounds now louder than before as the purple smoke started to encircle Michael. The noise of the organ would normally be enough to cause any other person to fall to their kneed and cover their ears. Michael, however, simply remained where he was, practically motionless as the onslaught on his ears continued.

Then, the smoke relented, the stained-glass windows shining brightly to cast out the darkness and illuminate the house of God for the killer to see. Footsteps were heard coming towards him, but Michael did not turn around to see who was approaching him until he finally spoke.

"Hello, Michael," said the same voice Michael heard earlier.

Only now did the Shape turn to face this man. Standing about twenty feet away from him was a tall, middle-aged man with short black hair, carrying what seemed to be a Bible and wearing a long purple cloak with golden lining, a golden cross necklace, and a black suit vest with a white buttoned shirt underneath. No doubt, based on his wardrobe, this was the priest of this church. Most striking of all, however, was his eyes. There interestingly seemed to be no pupils on them, suggesting that he might be blind.

Unknown to Michael, this was the floor master of floor B2: Abraham Gray.

"I had anticipated that this might happen," he stated. "That you would not be satisfied with our generous proposal and try to escape. I suppose I have no one but myself to blame. Still, I was most curious to try and discover what may have turned you into what you have become."

Hearing this caused Michael's head to tilt to the side curiously.

"Yes, Michael, I am the one who brought you to this facility," Gray answered for the silent killer. "If you don't mind, allow me an explanation as to why myself and my collaborator have brought you here. All it will cost you is merely a moment of your time. Afterward, you will be free to do as you please."

Michael, of course, initially planned on charging straight for this man and killing him then and there, but he knew that would be foolish given that this man may have the information he'd need to get out of here. So, he decided to simply stand before him in silence, listening carefully for any clues or slip of the tongue. At that point is when he would strike.

"Since I was young, I have studied the behaviors of those who claimed to worship God," Gray began. "You see, Michael, what I discovered is that faith can be every bit as blind and ugly as it is beautiful. So many are quick to use God as a tool to rebut anyone with whom they might disagree with, or flaunt his image to benefit their selfish ambitions. Bizarre, wouldn't you agree?"

The priest was only met by Michael's silence as his answer.

"I wondered at that moment, how does God feel about that? Knowing that his servants behaved in such a detestable way. So, I decided to place myself in the position of God. Inside this building, I planted and tended to you all like seeds in a garden. Those I placed at the bottom on floor B8 are test subjects, sacrifices, if you will, to aid in my studies. To watch and judge these subjects thoroughly, I needed to enlist the help of angels. Angels who would kill without hesitation. Angels such as Isaac, Danny, Eddie, Cathy...and you, Michael Myers."

With every second, Michael's right hand slowly gripped the handle of his knife tighter and tighter, his patience once again running thin. Any second now it seemed the serial killer was going to snap and just kill this man and find his way out himself.

"I had assumed, at first, that Isaac would be my most intriguing angel, with his inherent ignorance of anything but his desire to shed blood. And yet, you, Michael, have interested me more so. The way that you have surrendered yourself to your violent tendencies. The way that you have gone about it without even the slightest hint of remorse. How you have claimed lives without any hope to be bargained or reasoned out of it. How you have managed to overcome any and all threats that dared to oppose you. That is why I deemed you a perfect fit to become one of my angels. That is why I'm afraid...I cannot simply allow you to leave this place."

Hearing those words caused the grip the Shape had on the glass vial to strengthen tremendously, causing it to shatter.

"You have put us in quite a predicament. You have wounded one of my angels and murdered two others. To continue my experiment, I'm afraid I have to compensate for that. Luckily, I believe that you will more than make up for that, Michael."

Having finally had enough of this man's babbling, Michael began to storm his way towards Gray, unaware of that same violet smoke emerging from the vents behind him. However, before either could reach their targets, a plastic wall shot out of the floor, separating Michael from Gray and vice versa, while the smoke was sucked back into the vents. Surprisingly, this caused Gray's blank eyes to widen slightly, telling Michael that he was not the one that did this.

"GRAY!" a voice shouted.

Michael instantly recognized that voice. It was the woman from the tape recorder he discovered when he first found himself here. He and Gray looked up to a balcony to Michael's left to see the hooded woman looking down at the two of them.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" she asked, sounding like she was about to explode with rage at any second. "After all the shit this man has pulled, you STILL think you can control him?"

"He has left us with no choice, Amanda," Gray reasoned, maintaining a calm tone in his voice. "If we want this experiment to conti-"

"One of our angels was mangled, two others were killed, Gray!" the woman, now identified as Amanda, interrupted. "I don't care too much about that little shit, Eddie, but I was grooming Catherine to carry John's work should anything happen to me!"

"Yes, an unfortunate outcome, but-" the priest attempted to state.

"But nothing!" Amanda shouted. "I tried to warn you this would happen. Michael's caused far too much trouble than he's worth. Just let him go."

"Amanda-" Gray attempted to reply.

"Let. Him. Go," Amanda practically snarled. "You might see yourself as God in this building, but don't forget who helped you make all of this possible in the first place. Don't forget that YOU came to ME for John's blueprints. Don't forget who REALLY pulls the strings around here!"

Seemingly unphased by this, the priest silently took Amanda's words in before reaching a conclusion and turning to face the butcher of Haddonfield once more.

"There is an elevator behind the organ that will bypass floor B1 and take you outside," he explained. "You have my word that no harm will come to you."

"Find your way back to Haddonfield from there, Michael," Amanda added. "Just get the fuck out of here and stay out."

Michael slowly weighed the words of both Amanda and Gray in. He naturally considered trying to break through the plastic barrier and murder these two for what they put him through, but ultimately decided that he had wasted so much time trying to escape this place and just wanted to be done with it so he could go after those who he truly desired to kill. So, wasting not a second more, the Shape turned around and headed towards this secret elevator to his now inevitable freedom.

Gray let out a quiet sigh of defeat and turned back to the balcony to speak with his collaborator once more...only to see that she was gone.

* * *

Amanda slowly entered her quarters and turned the lights on, illuminating the room with a sickly greenish-yellow hue. Inside her quarters were several blueprints lying on a crafting table, several horrific, homemade, rust coated machinations, some of which were stained with dried up blood, and a spare robe with a pig mask hanging above it.

As she turned to said pig mask, her thoughts drifted to how this mess began in the first place.

* * *

_GJN agent Debra Carpenter's eyes slowly opened to find herself lying on her bed. Her mind tried to trace back to what had transpired earlier. She had just changed into her uniform when a figure, dressed in a black and red robe and a pig mask, shot out of her closet and placed a chloroform soaked rag onto her mouth and nose, causing her to lose consciousness shortly afterward. In a panic, she jumped out of her bed and pointed her gun in any direction the intruder may come from, only for nothing to happen._

_Then, she turned to her dresser and found a small tape recorder with the words 'play me' written on a piece of tape. She slowly approached it, tense all over her body, and grabbed it before pressing the play button._

_"Hello, Debra," a woman's voice began. "If you don't want to die a slow, and painful death, then I suggest you listen closely. __There's currently a deadly neurotoxin coursing through your body as we speak. It is said to cause death within six hours. __The toxin was injected one hour ago, so that leaves you with a mere five hours. I am the only one who contains the antidote, __and to acquire it, you must do something for me. You are currently scheduled to guard the body of Michael Myers as he is transferred to an undisclosed location from Smith's Grove Sanitarium. One hour after you depart, you are to hijack the truck that is transferring him and bring him to a different location. The coordinates will be sent to your phone the instant this tape stops playing. Know also that I am watching you, Debra. If you speak of what you are instructed to do, you will die. __And if you think that I'm bluffing, well...I was able to get into your apartment, wasn't I? Now, Debra, make your choice."_

* * *

_Amanda watched as a GJN armored truck pulled into the building. She opened the doors to see the unconscious body of Michael Myers strapped to a slab, a box labeled 'evidence' nearby and the dead bodies of five GJN agents, each with a bullet hole in their heads. She then closed the doors and slowly walked to the driver's side of the vehicle, where she found Debra, __tears flowing as she breathed heavily, no doubt filled with regret over what she had done._

_"I...I gave you what you wanted..." she sobbed before coughing loudly, no doubt thanks to the toxin. "W-Where's __the antidote?"_

_"Here," Amanda bluntly answered as she pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Debra's head._

_Before the GJN agent could react, Amanda fired her weapon, causing Debra's body to jerk backward and for blood to splatter all over the passenger side window._

* * *

As the memories flooded back to her, Amanda went to the crafting table and placed her hands on the sides of her head while looking up at a newspaper that was placed on the wall.

JIGSAW KILLER CAUGHT: POSSIBLE ACCOMPLICE STILL AT LARGE.

The woman then grabbed the sides of her hood and pulled it backward, revealing the face of a survivor and protégé of John Kramer, AKA the Jigsaw Killer: Amanda Young.

"Don't worry, John," she whispered. "Wherever the GJN took you, know that your legacy will carry on as you intended."

* * *

Outside the building, Michael slowly stepped out of the open doorway, taking a second to feel the now organic Autumn breeze in the air before making his way through the streets of whatever town he was in. As he did so, laughter started to fill the air. The laughter of children. Of trick-or-treaters. Indulging in a day of sweets, innocent scares, and traditions that they will be nostalgic towards for years to come.

Little did they know, however, of the evil that was among them. An evil that hauntingly overtook the spirit of the Halloween season.

An evil...that was coming home once more.

* * *

**[1] - As built up in part 11 of The New Frontier**


	2. Reverse Ruby Rose

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, recall back in Ch 6 of The Dark Phoenix that Washu mentioned a 'Remnant-2' to Ruby. Well, that wasn't just an off-handed remark, it was a mere tease of something that I've been building for a while now: A RWBY mirror universe AU. And to introduce this new, twisted universe we have here, I'll be writing four spotlights on here, each dedicated to Team RWBY's reverse counterparts in a manner similar to how Rooster Teeth had basically these small short films for Volumes 1, 5, and 6 to build up anticipation, going as far as to incorporate a song of our choice into them, in this case, Rotten To The Core...no, not that Descendants shit, the Overkill song. lol.**

**And to answer a question I'm sure some of you are asking since we did build up an Earth-2 back in The New Frontier, will this dark version of Team RWBY encounter or even join Drakkon's Syndicate?**

**...I'm not saying a word. ;)**

**Side note, my collaborator is actually working on a MAX Spotlight sent entirely on Earth-2 and focusing on one of the reverse heroes in the Syndicate, so be on the lookout for that.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely none of the properties you will see here. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Infinity Verse MAX

Reverse Ruby Rose: Rotten To The Core

* * *

_It's like a movie, but there's not a happy ending_

_Every scene fades black, and there's no pretending_

_This little fairy tale doesn't seem to end well_

_There's no knight in shining armor who will wake me from the spell_

* * *

Deep within the Multiverse lied a reality similar to that of #62281, home of the world known as Remnant. However, universe #18226 was also different in many, many ways. It is the equivalent to what we call a 'mirror universe.' The heroes of the Remnant we all know were the villains and vice versa in what we shall now refer to as 'Remnant-2.' Now, you may be asking yourself 'but how did this reality turn out like this?'

All of this, believe it or not, was all thanks to one minor deviation in Remnant's past that carried a ripple effect like no other.

In this reality, Salem still managed to trick the God of Darkness to resurrect her deceased lover, Ozma, after being denied by his brother, the God of Light. After being informed of her deception, the God of Darkness still attempted to correct the error he had made. However, unlike in this reality's opposite, Salem made one last, desperate attempt to save her lover and pushed him out of the dark deity's line of fire. Unfortunately, the end result was catastrophic, as Salem had inadvertently pushed her beloved into the pit of which the Creatures of Grimm were spawned. What emerged afterward was not the man that Salem had loved, but a twisted, abominable human-Grimm hybrid that was driven mad in the process. After his emergence, the empowered Ozma seized control of the Grimm and, combined with his ability to utilize magic, managed to overpower the Gods, forcing both them and Salem to retreat from the God of Darkness' domain.

Afterward, unlike her alternate counterpart who damned the deities she sought assistance from, Salem fell to her knees in despair and groveled in guilt over what she had now wrought upon Remnant, begging the two brothers for forgiveness. The two gods, in the end, still punished her with the curse of immortality, but, realizing her want to right these wrongs, made her an offer before they departed this world. Should she manage to correct her mistake and put an end to her former lover, they will reverse the curse and allow her to die in peace. Of course, Salem wasn't sure if she could go through with going to war against the man she had previously wanted to spend the rest of her life with, but knew that it had to be done, and soon came to accept the terms she had been given.

With that, the deities departed like in the normal version of Remnant, the God of Darkness shattering the Moon in the process, as a war between Salem and Ozma erupted, lasting several centuries without a clear winner in sight. Since then, both sides had managed to gain several devoted followers, with Ozma eventually opting to open four underground training facilities in each of the kingdoms, each designed to craft for the twisted warrior his servants. The most dangerous killers on the planet: Huntsmen and huntresses.

It is here that we shall follow one such huntress in this twisted fairy tale: A devious, sadistic girl from Vale by the name of Ruby Rose.

* * *

"Oh, gods, hey, hey, hey, hey, R-Ruby, was it? P-Put the scythe down, please."

"Oh, see, let me let you in on a little secret, Lisa...it's also a gun!"

Before the newswoman could so much as react to this revelation, a gunshot echoed throughout the studio as a bullet exploded from the tip of the intruder's scythe, piercing her forehead and exiting the back of her head, blood splattering on the Vale News Network logo behind her as her corpse slumped down onto her desk and the screams commenced.

The girl that committed such an atrocious deed, especially for it being live on television, simply remained seated as she started to laugh in a sinisterly joyous manner. Five minutes ago, during a news report on a village that had recently fallen under attack by several unknown assailants, Ruby casually approached the set from within the currently ongoing news broadcast's crew and demanded that the camera's kept rolling as she spoke to Lisa Lavender as though it was a one-on-one interview. The petrified newswoman did all she could to keep herself alive in this situation, asking typical questions like 'How are you doing?' However, she couldn't have possibly expected such a response from a teenage girl.

_"Ah, fine, fine, Lisa, just been a busy girl all day. Get up, eat some cookies, get dressed, go burn down a village and kill a bunch of people, you know how it goes."_

Once the shock finally died down somewhat, the silver-eyed girl went into excruciating detail about how she and her team set practically everything within that village on fire after ransacking as many houses as they could and murdering the families cowering inside in cold blood. She seemed to be especially fond of the work she did to two families, in particular, the Blacks and the Sustrais, but expressed her disappointment that she failed to finish the entirety of both families off, as one member from each managed to slip her grasp, though she did manage to chop off one member's legs before he got away, so that was a plus in her twisted eyes.

_"H-How could you be so casual about this?!" a mortified Lisa shouted. "You talk of the senseless slaughter of men, women, and children as though it was just a regular Friday night! What could they have possibly done to you and this team of yours to deserve something as barbaric as this?!"_

_"Oh, they didn't do anything to us, Lisa," Ruby truthfully answered as she placed both of her hands behind her head in a relaxed position._

_"Wha-...Then why did you do it in the first place?!" Lisa demanded._

_"...We were fuckin' bored, that's why," the scythe-wielding girl answered._

_"...You..." a slack-jawed Lisa attempted to say as she attempted to find the words to respond with. "...You...cold-hearted, sadistic little bitch!"_

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa, we're on live TV, toots," Ruby replied with a smirk on her face. "You kiss your mommy with that mouth?"_

She then pointed the barrel of her Crescent Rose at the anchorwoman's head, the blade piercing the table, leading to the horror that millions watching were unfortunate enough to bear witness to.

The crew could do nothing but scream out in terror, far too mortified to so much as move a muscle, something that the sadistic girl took notice of and raised an eyebrow in perplexment.

"What are you guys still standing there for? I said you could go once I was finished here!" she stated before motioning to her weapon. "I only loaded her up with one bullet anyway. Look!"

To try and confirm that she was indeed telling the truth, she pointed her scythe towards the nearby cameraman and pulled the trigger...only to result in another poor sap getting his brains blown out. The murderer jumped slightly in surprise whilst the rest of the crew finally went into a frenzy trying to head for the nearest exit.

"...Oooooh, must've let an extra one slip in there," Ruby said before inhaling sharply and motioning her eyes left and right. "Awkward."

Shrugging her latest crime off, the red-hooded girl got back on her feet and approached the now blood-stained camera, all with a seemingly innocent smile on her face. She then grabbed the camera and pointed it directly at her face.

"How 'bout a little poem before I go, Vale?" she asked as she grinned with murderous intent and cleared her throat. "Roses are red, violets are blue...look out, Torchwick, cause now I'm coming for yo-"

This ominous message was the last thing millions of Remnant's population saw before the transmission was finally cut off.

* * *

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, guys, we needed to get the hell out of here five minutes ago!" a visibly panicking Roman Torchwick stated.

Having heard the message of impending doom on live television just thirty minutes ago, the notorious arms dealer wasted no time having his men begin vacating his hideout in Vale and storing as much of their merchandise into their stolen Atlesian Bullhead as possible. He knew that this life wasn't going to be an easy or even long one, being someone who tried to cater to both sides in a word at war, accepting deals from both Ozma and Salem, but his attempt to arm those villagers before Team RWBY arrived to commence their slaughter most definitely shortened his already dwindling life expectancy.

You see, like the Roman we all know from the main Remnant, this version still maintained his greed and will to accept most jobs and deals for the right price. However, he maintained a sense of honor and dignity to him and did have his limits. So, when his recent meeting with Ozma ended with him nonchalantly stating that his newest top Huntress was taking her team on a little killing spree, he couldn't help but try to at least do something to assist these innocent people in their crosshairs...at least for a discount that is.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though his efforts were for not as most of the village fell before the feared team of Huntresses and, even worse, they were able to trace their defensive effort back to him. As one could imagine, Roman wasn't exactly keen on dying just yet and continued to bark at his men to speed up their evacuation.

That was, until, they heard the sound of the door opening.

Instinctively, Roman spontaneously pointed his Melodic Cudgel towards the door, his men following suit with their own weapons, only to then spot a teenage girl with orange hair and green eyes, clad in a white blouse and a short gray pinafore dress, slowly approaching them.

"...Uh..." a bewildered Roman muttered as he slowly lowered his cane. "H-Hello?"

"Salutations, Roman Torchwick," the girl asked in a monotone voice. "...And farewell."

Before the arms dealer could question what exactly she meant, the fingers in her right hand splayed outward and one of his thugs flinched slightly, blood starting to drip onto the razor-thin wires that pierced his skull and lodged themselves into his brain. The girl then moved her fingers as though she was controlling a marionette's control bar, causing the thug she was controlling to suddenly turn to his fellow men, opening fire on them. Three dropped dead in an instant as the others, along with their boss, immediately scattered about to try and find cover. The girl's victim managed to take down another two before his body went completely limp. Her newest puppet now of no more use, the girl harshly pulled the wires back to her, tearing a large chunk of the man's skull and brain out in the process as the corpse fell to the ground.

Then, just as Roman and his men were about to try and take this girl down, the sound of glass shattering from above caught them off guard and the sound of a certain someone's maniacal laughter nearly caused Torchwick's skin to turn white in horror. One of the thugs could just barely see Ruby descending down towards him before Crescent Rose, in its war scythe formation, speared him through the chest. His eyes widened in pain as his blood began to pour from where his heart once was, but before he could scream, Ruby had already landed in front of him and grasped her weapon, pulling a trigger to allow its blade to form back into its scythe formation. She then proceeded to fire a shot from its barrel, propelling the blade backward, resulting in the man being completely sliced in half.

"Ah, nothing like the sweet aroma of death and misery, right Penny?" the deranged girl commented as the nearby thugs began to flee in terror.

"I would not know, master," the girl referred to as Penny answered. "I do not possess a meatbag's scent detecting capabilities."

"Aaaaand you ruined it, nice job," Ruby dejectedly responded.

"Thank you, ma-" Penny was about to say.

"Yeah, yeah, less talking, more killing!" Ruby interrupted, that sadistic smile returning to her face.

"As you wish, master," Penny replied.

With that, a compartment opened on the girl's back, revealing several blades as they seemingly started to float above her, all while Ruby instantly had her own weapon compress into a sniper rifle.

"Kill them!" Roman shouted as he pointed his cane back at the terrifying duo. "KILL THEM!"

His men then proceeded to point their guns back at their targets, only for one of Penny's blades to spin towards them, decapitating three of them while Ruby fired a shot from her Crescent Rose that went through the heads of two more. Finally, the thugs opened fire, only for Penny to rapidly spin her blades to deflect every shot while her accomplice utilized her Semblance to dash at an inhuman speed towards them as her weapon transformed into a scythe once more. Once she reached her targets, she sliced off one thug's left arm before making a swift cut at his neck. She then lept upward and roundhoused his head off of his body, causing it to slam against the head of one of his fellow men. Taking advantage of his disorientated state, Ruby proceeded to slice a deep gash at his gut, disemboweling him, all while she had that same, crazed look of bloody murder in her silver eyes.

**_I HAVE GOT A SECRET, HIDDEN BEHIND MY EYES_**

**_ A VIOLATION TRAGEDY OF VIOLENCE, HATE, AND LIES_**

**_ LOCKED DEEP WITHIN A CHAMBER, DARK RECESSES OF MY MIND_**

**_ A TRIBUTE TO INSANITY THROUGH HOURS DAYS AND TIME_**

**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**

Meanwhile, Penny was busy dispatching several goons that had attempted to get the drop on her by pointing the tips of her blades at them at every direction she could and firing several laser blasts that took them down with one precise hit to the heart or the brain, sometimes even managing to blow massive holes in their chests or blowing their heads clean off. She had turned her body in ways no ordinary human ever could, twisting her arms about and turning her torso completely backward so that she could target her enemies with her weapons the instant they came out of their holes. Suddenly, one stray bullet managed to hit her dead in the eye, causing her head to veer backward sharply. Thinking he managed to slay her, the one who made the shot then turned his gun towards Ruby, who was busy swinging the blade of her weapon up her latest, screaming victim, crotch first.

He didn't so much as get one shot, unfortunately, as one of Penny's blades suddenly flew towards him, slicing his right hand completely off. Blood started to spurt out of the stump as the thug yelled out in agony and tried desperately to stop the bleeding. He then turned to the one who threw the weapon and was shocked to see Penny approaching him, the wound in her head revealing not flesh underneath, but metal. Before he could so much as utter one word, the android swiped her hand to the side, five wires slicing her newest victim horizontally. The man's eyes widened as he let out one final gasp before the five pieces of his body fell to the floor in a bloodied mess.

**_RECITE THE TESTIMONIAL, TRUTH AND NOTHING MORE_**

**_ ACCUSATIONS NOMINAL FALL ROTTEN TO THE CORE_**

**_ SO TAKE A LOOK, READ A BOOK, REACH A NEW PLATEAU_**

**_ BUT STAIN THE SOUL A LIFE YOU TOOK, YOU KNOW NOT WHAT I KNOW_**

**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**

Ruby continued to mince her victims to pieces as they tried in vain to fight back, blood, body parts, and the occasional organ flying everywhere as she continued to cackle like the lunatic she was. The truth was, there were few things, if any, that brought her such unbridled joy like murder and mayhem. The carnage and devastation she brought upon these people gave her such a warm, tingling feeling in her black heart that could only be matched when she was with a certain, special someone that doubled as her favorite partner in crime...and even then that usually still lead to someone getting their head chopped off at the very least. You might be asking yourself 'Good lord, what brought this version of someone who's normally so sweet, righteous, and determined to help others in need, no matter what?'

That's the thing. No one truly knows what caused her to take such a sharp turn.

She just suddenly snapped one day a few years after her mother vanished after embarking on an attempt to gain intel on Salem per Ozma's command.

Fortunately...or perhaps, unfortunately, in this case, Yang was spared, managing to evade her psychotic step-sister's wrath, only losing her right arm in the process. Their father, however, wasn't as lucky. Soon afterward, Ozma took the two girls into his school and molded them into two of the most dangerous killing machines on the planet. Of course, Ruby didn't exactly care much about the war between the two immortal former lovers, but accepted in a heartbeat when she heard the main benefit to be at the devil's side.

She was allowed to kill whoever he targeted however she wished.

The hooded girl then snapped out of her bloodthirsty trance when she realized the screaming had stopped and that no one was rushing towards her to try and bring her down.

"Awwww, I wasn't done yet!" she complained, pouting like a child as she did so. "Hmph!"

"Master, if it is any consolidation, our main target is still alive," Penny informed.

The android pointed one of her blades towards said main target, causing Ruby to slowly turn to Roman, who stood nearby the doors that Penny had melted shut with her lasers, glaring at the two killers. A sadistic smile slowly crept up Ruby's face when she saw him.

"Oh, goody!" she cheered. "Now, how do I go about dealing with you, Roman? Oooh, decisions, decisions. Personally, I'm leaning towards strangling you with your own intestines like I did to daddy."

"Oh, I wouldn't count your chickens just yet, Little Red," Roman retorted, his normally suave demeanor returning as his face put on a smile of his own. "I've still got a few tricks up my sleeves."

Before either perpetrator could question him, the arms dealer let out a whistle and, not even a second later, Penny immediately looked upward at something descending towards her accomplice.

"Master, above you!" she informed.

Heeding her robotic ally's words, the psychotic girl looked upwards just in time to see a small woman descending down towards her, an umbrella in her hands ready to smash her skull in. Reacting just in time, Ruby managed to quickly collapse her Crescent Rose and block the offensive, only for the woman to seemingly shatter into tiny pieces. Upon this revelation, the girl smirked with delight.

"That you, Neo?" she asked.

Seemingly in response, the woman referred to as Neo landed behind the horrific duo, prompting the two of them to face her as her currently brown and pink eyes glared daggers at the two of them, her umbrella, Hush, positioned over her shoulder.

"Sooooo, this is where you ran off to, huh?" Ruby asked, her smirk never fading. "Gotta say...bit of a downgrade."

The pink, brown, and white-haired woman gritted her teeth angrily in response.

"So, whatcha been up to, hanging with this prick?" the hooded girl asked, pointing her thumb behind her towards where Roman stood.

Silence was Neo's only reply, causing her enemy to sigh to herself.

"Right, right, 'language of violence' and all," she said, air quoting those three words, before continuing onward with this one-sided conversation. "Y'know, Ozzy was furious when he found out you escaped. Loosing one of his top three tends to do that to someone...well, okay, top two now given what happened to poor 'Invincible Girl.' Pfft. Wasn't so invincible after all, am I right?"

Again, silence.

"Ugh, you were never any fun, Neo," Ruby chided. "You're almost as boring as this blank slate over here."

She pointed towards Penny as she said that.

"'Fun' is not in my primary programming, master," the android replied.

"Oh, really? Ya don't say," Ruby muttered before turning her attention back to Neo. "Anyway, sorry for that little tangent, where was I? Oh, right! Ozma's still plenty pissed at you...so I bet I can climb even further up the ladder if I hand him your corpse!"

The mere thought caused a haunting chuckle to escape her lips, causing a chill to run down Neo's spine.

"Now you be a good little girl and stay right there for me, kay sweetie?" Ruby said in the most sickly sweet voice she could muster, slowly turning around as she did so. "I'll get to you once I'm done with this treacherous assh-"

She stopped mid-sentence when she turned to where Torchwick was standing...only to see that he was gone.

"...Well, shit."

Then, without warning, a loud crashing sound was heard from behind her. She swiftly turned to see an Atlesian Paladin-290 marching towards both her and Penny, Roman no doubt being the one who was piloting it, all while Neo gave the duo a mocking smirk.

"Shit, shit, shit!" the psychopath cursed.

The mech-suit pointed its weapons at the two of them, Neo leaping up to its left shoulder, before opening fire, prompting Ruby and Penny to quickly run towards a stack of dust crates.

"Penny, up, up!" Ruby shouted, pointing towards two thugs on the second floor aiming their guns at them.

In response, the android pointed two of her gun-blades directly upward and shot two laser blasts that caused their heads to explode upon impact. The terrifying duo then jumped above the crates, hiding behind them as the barrage of bullets finally stopped, but the heavy footsteps of the Paladin got closer and closer.

"Master, it appears we are trapped," Penny informed. "Shall I initiate self destruct sequencing?"

"No, NO!" Ruby quickly answered. "Do not self destruct, you hear me, you dumb bag of bolts?! DO! NOT! SELF! DESTRUCT!"

"Protocol dictates I cannot be captu-"

"Yeah, I know, I know, I heard you the last twenty goddamn times we got in shit like this!"

"Actually, I count twenty-seven times we were involved in 'shit like this.'"

"Ugh, why didn't Ozma send Weiss with me instead?" Ruby groaned before regaining what little composure she had and lowering her voice. "Okay, okay, I think I have an idea, but keep quiet, okay? We don't want those two hearing this."

"This is correct," Penny answered, whispering as well. "What is your plan, master?"

"What type of dust's in these crates?" Ruby asked.

"Scanners indicate it is a type of steam dust."

"Yes, perfect! Okay, I'm gonna set these crates off. Go for Torchwick once I do so and do not let him see you. I'll go for Neo."

"Understood, master."

With the plan in motion, Ruby stood back up and pointed Crescent Rose towards the crates, firing one shot that caused the dust inside to burst out, engulfing the area in a thick cloud of steam. Though stunned by this sudden action, Torchwick immediately countered by activating the laser sights in his suit's weapons and scanned the room for his adversaries, all while Neo continued to stand atop the suit's shoulder.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Red," Roman called out. "Gonna paint this dump red once you do."

"Ooooh, red you say?" Ruby's voice questioned...from above. "Like roses!"

Before either Roman or Neo could react, the psychotic girl burst from the steam, having been standing on the suit's right shoulder, swinging her scythe towards the multi-colored woman, who managed to block the offensive, only to fall off the suit with her enemy. Once Ruby landed on the floor, Torchwick guided his suit to point its weapons down on her, but before he could fire the first shot, Penny's blades flew from within her cover, jabbing themselves into the suit as the android utilized the strings at the end of them to force it back towards her, allowing Ruby to keep her deranged focus on Neo.

**_MISGUIDED YOUTH, THE BITTER TRUTH, NOTHING LEFT TO CHANCE_**

**_ FALLEN ANGEL SEEKING ADVENTURE, NEW ROMANCE_**

**_ HOW DARE YOU TOUCH, YOU TAKE THE SOUL OF ONE SO PURE, SO WHITE_**

**_ THE VIOLATION TRAGEDY TOOK ALL SHE HAD THAT...NIGHT!_**

The hooded, blood coated girl swung her scythe like the madwoman she was, all while Neo continued to use Hush to quickly block each and every one of her attacks. She kept her multi-colored eyes focused on her enemy, trying desperately to find an opening to take advantage of, but it seemed like it was a fruitless endeavor at first, as Ruby was far too quick for her to counter.

Then, just barely noticing an opening, Neo quickly unsheathed the blade hidden within the parasol of Hush and lunged it at the deranged killer's side, jabbing it into her body. Ruby's silver eyes widened slightly in pain, causing her to slow her attacks just enough to allow Neo to roundhouse kick her in the face. She stumbled backward, dropping Crescent Rose as she did so, before noticing her adversary charging towards her, likely in an attempt to reclaim her weapon and finish the job.

However, a sinister grin overtook Ruby's face as she looked downward so as to hide her expression and give Neo an illusion of her own doing. One of her being overtaken by pain. Once Neo was within an arm's reach, Ruby, with lightning-fast speed, grabbed the blade by its handle, pulled it out of her body, and swung at her enemy, landing a deep cut on her own side. Now Neo's eyes were the ones that were overtaken by pain as she grasped onto the wound, which began to bleed moderately. In her distracted state, she was unable to notice Ruby swinging her boot towards her, making contact with her face. The multi-colored woman fell harshly to the ground, her nose now also starting to have blood running down it, as she looked over to see the red-hooded psychopath slowly make her way towards her, holding both her blade and Crescent Rose in her hands.

"Y'know what they say, 'eye for an eye,'" she said, her devious smile stretched ear to ear.

**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**

While that was going on, Roman was firing his suit's weapons at Penny, only for said android to quickly dash out of his line of fire, shooting several blasts from her blades as she did so. Fortunately, the shady arms dealer was able to deploy one of its mechanical fists so as to block itself from the barrage of laser fire. As he did so, the other arm attempted to fire its weapons, only for one of the blades to fly towards it and lodge itself into one of the barrels, causing the dust round it was about to fire to explode prematurely and blast the mech's arm right off. The suit tumbled backward as its now sole arm swung outward, exposing the rest of it to Penny's onslaught.

The android then lept upward, landing on the suits back and beginning to use her weapons to try and slice through it to collect her latest victim. In a desperate effort to take her down, Roman had the mech sprint backward towards a wall, hoping that the force would crush his robotic adversary into bits. But this Penny, like the one we know, was more than combat ready and easily slipped off the mechanical exosuit's back, causing it to crash into the wall and put Torchwick into a state of disorientation, all for nothing. With the man inside distracted, Penny launched her blades at the suit, causing them to pierce right through before pulling the wires outward to rip a massive hole in its cockpit, revealing the weapons dealer inside.

"Master, meatbag incoming!" she informed as her wires began to wrap around Torchwick's waist.

Said psychotic teen was still approaching the downed Neo when she heard that, a gleam of murderous joy overtaking her eyes as she swiftly turned towards the source of the voice, which, in turn, revealed to Roman the state of his partner, much to his horror.

"Neo, run!" he shouted, right before Penny hurdled him out of his suit and into the air.

**_I HAVE GOT A SECRET, HIDDEN BEHIND MY EYES_**

**_ A VIOLATION TRAGEDY OF VIOLENCE, HATE, AND LIES_**

**_ RECITE THE TESTIMONIAL, THE TRUTH AND NOTHING MORE_**

**_ ACCUSATIONS NOMINAL FALL ROTTEN TO THE CORE_**

**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**  
**_ROTTEN! TO THE CORE!_**

With her target in sight, Ruby dropped Neo's blade and collapsed her weapon into its sniper mode and took aim, the traitor in full view of her scope.

**_TO THE CORE!_**

Her weapon aimed itself right at Roman's back...

**_ROT, ROT_**

**_ ROT ROT, ROT_**

**_ ROT ROT, ROT_**

**_ ROT ROT, ROTTEN, ROTTEN..._**

...and pulled the trigger.

**_...TO THE CORE!_**

A single bullet exploded from the barrel, speeding through the air before finally piercing through Roman's spine. The arms dealer's eyes widened as his legs went numb before smashing harshly to the ground, sliding through the floor on his back before finally stopping right against Ruby's boots.

"Bullseye!" the red-hooded girl cheered with glee.

Seeing the one who was clearly sent to end his life standing before him, a petrified Roman tried everything he could to get away from her, but it was to no avail thanks to his now paralyzed legs. As he did so, Penny turned to face her master and her victim, noticing something behind Ruby.

"Master, the other meatbag," she stated.

"What? What about her?" Ruby nonchalantly asked.

"She is gone," Penny answered.

Her silver eyes widening, the mass-murdered swiftly turned around to see that, in fact, Neo had vanished, much to her chagrin. Meanwhile, Roman, still trying to drag himself away from these two, couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief that his partner was safe.

"Oh, fuck me!" Ruby cursed as she slapped a hand on her forehead. "I was gonna see if my fire dust rounds could make that bitch melt!"

"Highly doubtful, master, since you meatbags have a tendency to be burned with fire dust instead of-" Penny tried to inform.

"It was a joke, Penny!" Ruby snapped.

"...Oh," Penny replied.

Rolling her eyes at her robotic partner-in-crime, Ruby then turned her attention back to Torchwick, who was attempting to reach for Melodic Cudgel as he continued to crawl in desperation.

"Oh well!" she shrugged in a chipper tone. "Guess I'll have to have fun with you instead!"

She started to skip her way to her target, humming a happy little tune as she did so before intentionally landing her foot onto Roman's right hand, the sound of his bone's cracking echoing throughout the empty warehouse. The shady weapons dealer screamed in pain, clutching his broken hand before both Ruby and Penny made their way to him, the android picking up his cane as she did so. The psychotic, silver-eyed girl then bent down to grasp Torchwick by his chin before pulling what appeared to be a bullet from one of her pockets.

"Aura. Piercing. Dust," she stated, that same devious smile creeping up her face. "Courtesy of my little snowflake up in the SDC. Ain't it just the dandiest thing?!"

To emphasize her point, she placed the bullet on the ground while forcing Roman's left hand onto its tip before hammering Crescent Rose down onto it like a hammer, causing it to pierce right through his hand. The arms dealer let out another cry of agony as blood started to trickle down the freshly made hole in his flesh and his enemy started to giggle to herself in a deranged manner.

"Ah, music to my ears," she sighed happily.

"Hey, hey, hey, listen, Red, you got it all wrong here," Roman pleaded as he tried to fight the immense pain he was in. "Th-those weapons we sent to those townfolk, I-I had them bugged! Thought you guys might-"

His words were cut short, however, when Ruby swung her scythe's blade onto the hole in his left hand and pulled it towards his shoulder, slicing his entire arm vertically in half. This, in turn, caused him to let out a bloodcurdling scream as he clutched the now exposed bones where his arm once was and he began to bleed profusely. Not wanting to break her newest toy so soon, Ruby grabbed some fire dust from another of her pockets and dropped them on what remained of Torchwick's arm, causing the flesh, muscle, veins, and bones to burn to ashes after several, grueling, agonizing seconds, as well as causing the wound to be cauterized and the bleeding to stop.

"My, my, Roman...what a shiny silver tongue you have," Ruby darkly remarked as her victim clutched the stump where his arm once was.

"...I do not detect any traces of silver in this meatbag's to-" Penny attempted to state.

She was interrupted, though, when her master turned her head towards her's, glaring irritably into her green optics.

"...Oh, this is another of your jokes," Penny corrected. "...Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha-"

"Penny..." Ruby gritted. "Go...go guard the door."

"Yes, master," Penny responded.

With that, the murderous android began to make her way to the door, all while Ruby couldn't help but hit her head onto Crescent Rose's handle a few times.

"Fuckin' robots..." she muttered to herself before turning her attention back to Roman. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah!"

She then raised her scythe upwards.

"Mincing you to pieces, you treacherous dipshit!"

"Whoa, hey, Ruby, hey, wait!" Roman pleaded once more. "Listen, how about we settle this in a more...professional manner, huh? How bout you tell ol' Ozzy I'll give him a discount on gravity dust rounds if we just let bygones be bygones, eh?"

"Yeah, keep begging for your life, Torchwick!" Ruby shouted, her left eye twitching slightly as she did so. "It'll only make me wanna cut you more!"

"C'mon, Red, think-!" Roman cried out, only to be cut off by his attacker's scythe being jabbed into his chest.

The deranged girl proceeded to pull her weapon towards her, slicing Roman's body open from his heart to his stomach. He tried to scream once again, only for him to start coughing mounds of blood out of his mouth as Ruby started to slice his organs out one by one, loudly laughing like the psychopath she was as several splatters of blood started to coat her black and white outfit red. She then collapsed her weapon into a sniper and lodged it into the hole she had made, pointing the barrel towards the head of the just barely alive weapons dealer. With one pull of the trigger, the entire top half of Roman's body detonated, leaving a mess of blood, mangled flesh, and pieces of his brain spattered on the floor.

With the deed now complete, still chuckling to herself, the silver-eyed girl had Crescent Rose go back into its scythe mode and brought the blood-drenched blade of her weapon to her mouth, licking off some of her victim's blood when it was close enough.

Then, without warning, the doors to the warehouse practically exploded off its hinges and flew into the unmanned Paladin, knocking it onto its back upon impact. Penny, having caught the brunt of the impact, slid on the floor before stopping right in front of Ruby, who was readying her weapon for what she believed was enemy reinforcements of some kind. However, the instant she saw a patch of blonde hair emerge from the smoke, she couldn't help but groan to herself.

"Yang, what the hell are you doing here?" she asked while her robotic accomplice got back on her feet.

Sure enough, the brawns of this twisted version of Team RWBY and Ruby's stepsister casually strided towards her leader/sister with a smirk on her face.

"Nice to see you too, sis," she sarcastically answered. "Anyway, Ozma thought you were taking longer than usual so he sent me to check up on you two. Make sure you didn't bail or something."

She then glanced over Ruby's shoulder, noticing the blood-stained walls and the piles of mangled corpses scattered throughout the building.

"...Well, guess you didn't," she stated. "Nora's gonna be eating good today."

"Yeah, we better grab a few of 'em while we're at it," Ruby replied. "You know how pissed she gets when we don't come back with something for her to eat."

"I'll begin the collecting process immediately, master," Penny said as she began to make her way to the corpses.

It was at that moment that Yang noticed Neo's blade on the floor.

"Looks like you missed one, though," she pointed out.

"Like how I missed your other arm?" Ruby remarked.

The blonde countered by raising her robotic right arm up and flipping her deranged sister off.

"Ah, she'll come back to us soon enough," Ruby stated as she bent down to reclaim her enemy's weapon, her silver eyes staring down at its blade as she did so. "She seemed to care about that asshole, so something tells me when she finds out what happened, she's gonna want our heads for it...but we'll be ready, of course."

Her thoughts drifted to what she was planning to do to that woman when they meet again, causing her to go into yet another psychotic giggling fit, one that even caused Yang's normally boiling blood to run cold.

* * *

She shouldn't have left him.

That was all that Neo could think as she continued to trudge through the empty alleyways of Vale, clutching her still bleeding wound as she did so. Even though it was what he wanted her to do, so that at least her survival could be ensured in the end, it still pained her to just up and abandon the man who took her under his wing once she finally escaped the hellhole that was Beacon Academy, where she had spent most of her life being trained to be one of the deadliest assassins at Ozma's disposal. The mere thought of what that psycho bitch, Ruby, was doing to him right now was enough to cause her to collapse against a wall, tears flooding down her face as she began to sob quietly, finding herself in the exact same position she was in when she left.

Scared, wounded, and most of all, alone.

That was, until a figure suddenly landed in front of the small woman, causing her to flinch slightly in fright as she raised her multi-colored eyes towards this stranger. Despite being covered by the shadows, Neo could make out that this person was female, wearing a kevlar-lined, red suit with orange highlights on her arms and legs. Gripped in her right hand was a red, metal bow and strapped to her back was a quiver with a series of various arrows. Her face was covered by a hood, though Neo could just barely make out a brief, orange-ish glow where her right eye would be. Even shrouded in shadows, Neo's eyes widened slightly in fear, for she knew exactly who this was.

The Huntsman Slayer.

A mysterious vigilante that, as her title implied, hunted down and killed the barbaric Huntsmen and Huntresses of the four academies. She had been a thorn in Ozma and the other headmasters' sides for a few years now, her biggest rise to infamy being when, after a brutal, year-long rivalry, she had slain the notorious 'Invincible Girl,' Pyrrha Nikos, formerly regarded as the most feared Huntress on the planet.

The mere sight of the one responsible for such a feet sent shivers down Neo's spine, fearing that she had been in the Slayer's crosshairs thanks to her time as one of Ozma's attack dogs. She started to breathe heavily in panic, believing that her time on this world was coming to an end when the Slayer did something unexpected: Drop her bow.

"Please, don't panic," she requested. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The Slayer then reached up for her hood, pulling it down to reveal the face of an amber-eyed woman with short, black hair and a patch where her left eye should be. She looked down at the multi-colored woman before her with pity and slowly began to approach her. Still not believing her words, Neo attempted to make a run for it, only for the pain of her wound to overtake her and cause her to slide back down. Once the Slayer reached her, she knelt to her level.

"What's your name?" she asked.

Neo simply continued to breathe heavily for several seconds before finally starting to calm herself down. However, rather than answer her, she simply pointed to her mouth, shaking her head as she did so.

"You...You can't speak?" the Slayer asked.

The small woman shook her head once again in response.

"Okay...uh...here," the Slayer responded, pulling out her scroll and activating it as she did so. "Type your name onto this."

She handed Neo the scroll, who typed her name onto it before showing the vigilante what she had written on it.

"Neo," she read before giving the multi-colored woman a small smile. "Well, Neo, I think I know someone who can help you out with that."

She proceeded to get back up, extending her hand towards who she hoped would become her friend.

"Come."

Neo mulled over her options for a few seconds before she reluctantly grabbed onto the Slayer's hand. The vigilante then assisted her back onto her feet before turning to walk away with her in tow, only for her to hear the sound of the small woman typing something on her scroll. She turned back to her, noticing that the scroll now read 'Name?' Knowing what she was requesting, the Slayer nodded once before giving her answer.

"Cinder."


	3. Reverse Weiss Schnee

**DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely none of the properties you will see here. All rights go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Infinity Verse MAX

Reverse Weiss Schnee: The Kinslayer

* * *

_Mirror, tell me something_

_ Tell me who's the loneliest of all?_

_Fear of what's inside of me_

_ Tell me can a heart be turned to stone?_

* * *

Two years ago...

'When I get back up there, I'll kill them...ALL of them.'

These fantasies of bloodshed were all Weiss Schnee, the seventeen-year-old former heiress to the Schnee Dust Company could think about as she looked upward to the massive city that floated above her. Where no doubt her pompous 'family' continued to go about their lives of luxury as though she never even existed. Paying no mind at all to the girl they left to die down here after her little 'accident' that took one of her father's fingers on her tenth birthday.

She found herself amidst the crime-ridden city of Mantle as it and its people were seemingly left to rot by their oppressors above. They expected her to not last very long, no doubt. Stranded amidst the seas of killers, rapists, psychopaths, and corrupt cops and military, she should've only lasted a month tops.

That day was seven years ago, and yet here she still stands.

At first, the plan was to hide as much as she could, scrounge up food whenever she could, and stay out of trouble. Cower in the shadows and let the hoodlums in this city tear each other apart. But that all changed a year later when a gang of crooks cornered her, seemingly knowing who she was and intended on utilizing her as leverage against her family.

Just the mere mention of her 'family' seemed to set something off in eleven-year-old Weiss' mind, and utilizing what little training she had in both swordplay and her semblance thanks to 'dearest sister' Winter, she slaughtered them all.

On that day, standing before the mangled corpses and observing the bloodstained alleyway before looking down at the knife she had jabbed into the leader's heart, she knew what she needed to do now: Fight and survive.

And so, for the next six years, she trained herself further in the arts of combat with a basic sword she had stolen from one of Mantle's weapons shops, as well as in advancing the skills she was capable of with her Glyphs, she fought and killed her way from anyone that tried to either mug her, kill her, or in some cases, rape her. It became almost intoxicating for her to take a life after a while, eventually getting to the point that she would murder some random person just casually walking down the street just to get her fix.

But all of that was just practice for her true endgame. For whenever she needed any motivation to keep trudging through these newfound hardships, she would do just one simple thing.

Look up.

And the instant her eyes of blue saw the city of Atlas floating above her, any doubts she had faded in an instant as she continued to fantasize about her long overdue family reunion.

A reunion that may now be drawing closer than she realized.

Today started like any other. She had already murdered someone who made the mistake of trying to pickpocket her and was using her tattered, blood coated, white dress to clean in when she heard something.

"_Red like roses fills my dreams..._"

Singing? In a place like this? What could possibly motivate anyone to sing a tune in a hellhole like this?

But then she heard it again.

"_Red like roses fills my dreams..._"

Something was off about how she heard it the second time. Like, beneath the deceptively innocent nature of this song lied something far, far darker and much more sinister than she realized. Curious, the former Schnee heiress began to slowly walk towards the alleyway where she heard the voice.

"_Red like roses fills my dreheheheams heheheheh..._"

The devious chuckle this mystery person let out turned Weiss' blood colder than it normally was as she continued onward, placing a hand on her sheathed sword as she did so. She then finally reached the end of the alley and saw, peaking through the shadows, the corpse of a man wearing a long-sleeved, burgundy shirt and with claws at the ends of his fingers, giving away that this person was, in fact, a Faunus. Though that wasn't what drew Weiss' attention. What did was the massive hole in his chest and his now heart-less ribcage.

Weiss raised an eyebrow at this sight, not caring in the slightest of what happened to some unlucky bastard that gets murdered in Mantle, least of all a Faunus, and, feeling as though she wasted enough time, turned to leave...only for a pair of silver eyes to meet her up close.

"Well...hi there."

The former Schnee heiress let out a gasp of fright as she jumped backward and readied her sword, getting a good look at whoever was stupid enough to try and sneak up on her like that. She was slightly surprised to find a fifteen-year-old girl with short, slightly spikey black and red hair and wearing an outfit that comprised of a black corset over a mesh sleeveless top and a white, long-sleeved blouse, a red skirt, and a red cape and hood. Strapped to her back was a red and black customized, high-impact sniper rifle that seemed to be able to turn into some kind of bladed weapon based on Weiss' guess.

The girl that stood before Weiss grinned in a sadistic and crazed manner as she slowly advanced towards her.

"Sooooooo, what's a cute little snowflake like you doing in this shithole?" she pondered.

"I fail to see how that's any of your business," Weiss snapped back as she thrust her sword forward.

"Ooooh, she bites too," the hooded girl responded. "Name's Ruby, by the way."

"I didn't ask," Weiss pointed out. "Because I don't care."

At that moment, she couldn't help but turn back to the corpse of the Faunus she had found, a question buzzing in her head.

"Yup, that's my handiwork right there, in case you were wondering," Ruby said, causing Weiss' head to turn back to her. "Ol' Tuskon over there thought he could hide from him here after botching up an assassination attempt on the White Fang's High Leader...BIG mistake, as you can clearly see."

As Ruby thought back to her latest victim's pleas of mercy, she couldn't help but giggle to herself in a manner that once again sent a chill running down Weiss' spine.

"Pity he ended up fucking that job up, though," she pouted. "A tigerskin rug was JUST what my room needed...Oh well, guess a bearskin one'll do."

"Wait...who's 'him?'" the former Schnee heiress asked.

"Ah, ah, ah...quid pro quo, Snowflake," the hooded girl interjected. "I told you my name and my business here, so how bout you return the favor?"

A sigh escaped the white-haired girl's lips as she slowly lowered her sword, looking down on the blood-soaked ground as she did so.

"You wouldn't believe me," she admitted.

"C'mon, try me," Ruby replied.

"...It's Weiss," the former heiress admitted.

"Weiss..." the crazed girl said to herself. "Weiss...Weiss...Now, where have I heard that name before?...Hm, let's see...Wait..."

She then snapped her fingers in realization.

"Same name as the former heiress to the SDC, of course!" she stated. "But, of course, couldn't possibly be you since, well, she's kinda dead."

Hearing this caused Weiss' eyes to widen in shock.

"Wait, what?!" she exclaimed. "Is that what they said?!"

"...What fucking rock have you been living under?" Ruby asked. "Everyone knows that after vanishing from the public eye on her tenth birthday, she caught some ailment or something and died a year later."

As Ruby continued to speak, the Schnee heiress' grip on the handle of her sword got tighter and tighter, her knuckles turning completely white as she closed her eyes, tears of anger slowly trickling down her face.

"So...So I really WAS dead to them," she whispered.

"Eh?" Ruby asked.

"They lied to you," Weiss answered as she looked back up at her. "I AM Weiss Schnee."

A hush fell over the alleyway upon this shocking revelation being uncovered...only for it to end when Ruby burst out in an uncontrollable laughing fit.

"AHAHAHAHAHA! N-Now that, th-that's a good one!" she said as she clutched her sides. "Sa-Says she's Weiss Schnee! GAHAHAHAH-"

Suddenly, the red-hooded girl was interrupted by a white glyph slamming onto the left side of her body, forcing her up against the alley's brick wall before fading away into nothingness, allowing her to fall onto the snow-coated pavement roughly.

"OW! Wha-What the fuck was-" she attempted to say, only for a shadow to loom over her.

Ruby looked upward, seeing Weiss glaring down at her whilst a smaller version of the glyph that attacked her floated above the palm of her right hand.

"Believe me now, you dolt?" she sneered.

"...You are REALLY lucky you're cute, otherwise, you'd be breathing through your eye sockets right about now," Ruby retaliated before attempting to get back onto her feet, clutching onto her chest as she did so. "Ow! Goddamnit! I think you got a couple of ribs with that one."

She then proceeded to dust off the snow on her outfit before continuing.

"Okay, so let's say you ARE Weiss Schnee...Doesn't really explain what you're doing down here instead of up there."

She pointed up to the city above as she finished that sentence.

"It's...It's a long story," Weiss replied.

"Hey, my job's done, I ain't got anywhere else I need to be, so fire away, Ice Queen," Ruby countered.

The psychotic teenager proceeded to sit down on a nearby, rust coated bench, crossing her legs and patting the empty space next to her to try and convince Weiss to join her. Sighing in relentment, the former heiress approached the bench and sat down next to her.

"Well...you'd think growing up as the daughter of one of the richest men in the world would be a life of luxury," she began. "Fame, riches beyond your wildest dreams, and being promised to inherit everything once he either steps down or dies. It sounds almost like paradise, don't you think?"

"Eh, my idea of paradise usually involves skinning someone alive and taking in those sweet wails of agony before they die," Ruby answered in an unnervingly nonchalant manner.

"...Uh..." Weiss uttered, unsure exactly how to respond to that. "...Anyway, let me tell you something, Ruby. Life in the Schnee Manor...It's anything but sunshine and rainbows."

The white-haired girl clasped her hands together and looked down as memories of her childhood came back to her.

"My father barely even acknowledged I existed. I still remember so many times I tried to greet him after a hard day's work, pent up by so much stress his job gave him, trying desperately to make him feel better like the good little girl I strived to be. After a while, I guess some of it rubbed off onto me, cause soon, it evolved from innocent greetings to full-blown shouting matches with that bastard. I occasionally spent days locked in my room because I dared to let him know what a miserable pile of garbage he truly was. Soon, he even started to hit me on an almost day-to-day basis while my mother did nothing to help her daughter."

She stopped briefly to point to the scar down her left eye.

"This right here...one day when I was nine, right after he struck me, I punched him square in the face. I'll let you fill in the blanks."

Her hand then lowered from her face as both of her fists clenched tightly, her anger beginning to build up once more.

"My hatred for him grew more and more as time passed. Eventually, it bled through to my mother and younger brother for doing nothing to try and end this abuse. I didn't care that they were probably terrified of what he could do with that amount of power and control behind him. I even started to hate my older sister for the same reasons, even though she was at least nice enough to teach me a few things she learned from the Atlas military. And then...then all of it finally came to a boiling point on my tenth birthday."

"Mm-hm, mm-hm, go on," Ruby encouraged.

"I...I...caught wind of...of a fight my parents were having..." Weiss continued as she clenched her eyes shut, the rage-induced tears flowing once more. "My father...the man who was supposed to raise me and care for me...admitted that the only reason she married my mom...was for the family name...I was worthless to him. I always was, and I always will be. And at that moment...I snapped and tried to kill him."

"Oooh, now we get to the fun part!" Ruby beamed. "Details, I want details!"

"Hate to disappoint, but I didn't get very far," Weiss responded. "I tackled him off his chair, only managed to slice one of his fingers off, and that's when his bodyguards barged in and knocked me out. When I finally came to, I found myself down here."

Her breathing started to get heavier and heavier as she began to seethe with hatred.

"He...he left me...a ten-year-old girl who just got told by her own damn father she meant nothing to him...TO DIE!"

As she continued to heave in and out, an occasional sob escaping while her tears continued to fall, Ruby simply observed silently...when an idea sparked in her deranged head. One that she was sure would put her in her boss' good graces for quite some time. She then proceeded to carry out this newfound plan of hers, starting with something that was almost alien to her...a comforting hand on Weiss' shoulder.

"Aw, you poor thing," she said. "I think I got just the thing that'll help wash your tro-"

"No, you don't, Ruby," Weiss suddenly gritted, slapping Ruby's hand off of her. "There is nothing you could possibly give me that I would want. NOTHING!"

"Oh?" Ruby questioned. "Even a little trip up to Atlas to, let's say...reconnect with the family?"

The former heiress of the SDC was about to shout at the psychotic girl even more, only for her to stop immediately upon hearing those words.

"...Wh-What did you say?" she asked.

"You heard," Ruby answered.

"...D-Don't joke about that, okay?" Weiss requested. "You'd never manage to get me back up there."

"Never say never, my dear," Ruby countered. "I know someone back at Vale who'd be able to pull some strings. I can take you to him, if you'd like."

"R-Really?!" a stunned Weiss asked. "T-Take me to him! Please!"

A smirk emerged from the hooded girl's face, her plan coming together perfectly.

"With pleasure, my Snowflake."

* * *

One year later...

The scene, a cargo airship approaching the city of Atlas after departing from Vale. All signs pointed towards yet another flawless delivery of several crates of explosive dust for the Atlesian military. However, something far, far more sinister was hiding inside. For inside the cockpit, two girls that snuck inside by concealing themselves from within one of the crates controlled the airship, and bellow them were the mangled corpses of the ship's actual pilots.

The girls' names: Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee.

Ruby continued to wear her traditional garb, the same outfit that she wore when she first met the former heiress, however Weiss had abandoned her tattered dress for something much cleaner and built for combat. She now wore a gray sleeveless dress over a white strapless dress, and above them was a blood-red shrug with a raised collar and a rose emblem on the left sleeve. Her hair had been cleaned since that day and her ponytail was now braided with an icicle-shaped tiara pinning it, her hands were covered by gloves that were a darker shade of red, covering her legs were a pair of pale red, wedge-heeled boots, and over her dresses was a light red, corset-style belt with several dust pouches and her newest weapon, a multi-action dust rapier with a revolving chamber containing six types of dust within she dubbed 'Myrtenaster,' strapped onto it.

After that day one year ago, Ruby made good on her promise to take her to the man she believed could make her ambitions a reality: Ozma. Seizing the newfound opportunity one of his students brought to him, the devious headmaster of Beacon accepted her into his academy on the sole grounds that, in the aftermath of her planned bloody rampage, the Schnee Dust Company would answer to him. Accepting the terms he had given her, she immediately began her year of training, undergoing day after day of grueling, unrelenting trials at the hands of the various teachers at the academy, such as Miss Goodwitch or Professor Oobleck. It was a daunting year for the former heiress, but she pressed on, once again reminding her of her endgame and how she was closer than ever to that day.

That being said, there was one thing Weiss most certainly didn't expect to find at a place like this: Love. Ever since she had arrived here, Ruby continued to call her those same pet names she had heard the day she met. Ice Queen, Snowflake, cutie, it had become clear after a while to Weiss that she wasn't simply teasing her. Normally, when someone tried to make a move like that to Weiss, it was usually some disgusting pervert that wanted nothing more than to violate her. And every time it happened, it ended the same: With said pervert being immediately castrated and left on the streets to bleed to death.

But Ruby was different. She began to feel uneasy around her after some time, her cheeks heating up soon afterward. The truth was that the deranged huntress was the first person she could recall ever being nice to her. She owed her everything for presenting this opportunity to her and she was the first that actually bothered to listen to her troubles and do something about it. All of it came to a head one day when she swiftly grabbed the red-hooded girl and planted her lips onto hers after one of their many training sessions. Ruby, being Ruby, decided to just roll with it and their training session turned into a night of having sex in the training arena. An act that none of the other students or even teachers dared to interrupt, less they end up on the wrong end of Crescent Rose.

When the day finally came that she and Ruby were to commit the deed that she had eagerly been anticipating for the past year, Weiss was ecstatic beyond belief, hardly able to contain her excitement as she and her new beloved snuck aboard the cargo ship or even when the two of them slashed the pilots' throats. Then, as the ship approached the floating city, the butterflied began to form in the Schnee heiress' stomach as she began to breathe deeply. Ruby, noticing this, placed a hand on top of hers.

"Hey, you're gonna do great," she said sincerely.

This seemed to calm Weiss down as her breathing slowed and she grasped her lover's hand back.

"Manta 5, you are way off course," the radio in the airship suddenly stated. "Redirect yourself or-"

"Yeah, sorry about that, but we're gonna be taking a little...detour, if you guys don't mind," Ruby interrupted through the bloodied headset she had confiscated from one of the pilots.

"...Who is this?!" the person on the other side demanded. "Where is-"

The conversation was cut short, however, by Weiss thrusting Myrtenaster into the radio.

"Boring conversation," she remarked, earning a chuckle from Ruby.

The two of them turned back to the window, seeing something that was getting closer and closer in their view...the Schnee Manor.

"Ready?" Ruby asked her lover.

Weiss proceeded to surround both of them with several glyphs before responding.

"...Ready."

With that, Ruby pushed on the ship's control yok down as hard as she could, sending the vessel plummeting down towards the mansion bellow. It crashed through the roof and into the main hall, crushing several unsuspecting, innocent people to death before smashing itself into the main stairwell and bursting into flames. A multitude of those that the craft had missed looked upon the sight in pure horror, observing the blood-stained, burning wreckage before them, before two figures suddenly burst out of the heap's top. Propelled by the heiress' glyphs, Ruby and Weiss both shot upward before landing in front of the onlookers who all let out a frightened scream. Weiss simply narrowed her eyes in contempt while Ruby grinned towards her latest victims. For she had planned the perfect day to strike so as to inflict maximum casualties.

A banquet behested by one Jacques Schnee.

"You didn't invite us..." Ruby began before pointing Crescent Rose at a random guest. "...so we decided to crash!"

One shot was all it took to blow the poor man's brains out, blood splattering onto his wife, who proceeded to shriek in terror. The other panicking guests attempted to make their way to the door, only for Weiss to launch herself using a glyph towards the door, jabbing her sword onto the floor and causing a wall of ice to form in front of it, trapping them all inside.

"They're all yours, Rosie," she said to her psychotic girlfriend with a smile.

"Aw, Snowflake, you shouldn't have!" Ruby beamed.

With that, the former heiress jumped over the wreckage of their ship and onto the stairs, sprinting upward while the banquet's guests, petrified beyond belief, backed away from Ruby as she slowly approached them with her scythe, madly giggling about what she was about to do with them.

* * *

The instant the attack began, seven Atlesian soldiers began sprinting down the hallways towards the main hall, weapons at the ready to deal with whoever was responsible. The squadron turned left towards their destination, only to see someone at the end of the hall, slowly advancing towards them with a sword at the ready. In an instant, they raised their rifles at her as a warning.

"Drop the sword!" one of them ordered.

The girl approaching them, however, did not slow her approach. Rather, she raised a hand upward, snapping her fingers as she did so, causing several glyphs to shoot upward at their guns, causing them to fly out of their hands. One of the stunned soldiers then drew out a pistol and began firing at this hostile, only for a much larger glyph to form in front of her, blocking the bullets as she continued to walk towards them. Two more glyphs proceeded to form above and bellow the soldier before the top one shot down and the bottom one shot up, completely crushing him into a bloodied mess before he could so much as cry out in pain.

The other six soldiers turned white as ghosts upon seeing their comrade's remains fall to the floor in a mess of mangled flesh and bones before another glyph shot out from the distance, slicing one soldier's head in half. His corpse fell to reveal to the others the girl now only a few feet away, her hair covering her hate-filled eyes in shadows.

**_FOR WHOM THE GUN TOLLS, FOR WHOM THE PREY WEEPS_**

**_ BOW BEFORE A WAR, CALL IT RELIGION_**

**_ SOME WOUNDS NEVER HEAL, SOME TEARS NEVER WILL_**

**_ DRY FOR THE UNKIND, CRY FOR MANKIND_**

One of the soldiers pulled out a combat knife and lunged it towards the girl, only for her to deflect the attack and knock the weapon out of his hand with her own. She then slashed her sword deep into the soldier's chest, causing a torrent of blood to start gushing out as he fell to the ground. Afterward, she proceeded to swing her sword towards a duo of her enemies, causing a wave of fire to shoot out of the blade, setting the two of them ablaze. As the two of them screaming in agony whilst being burned alive, the revolving chamber in her rapier rotated before she elbowed a soldier that attempted to tackle her onto the floor. With her enemy down, she swung her weapon down towards his head, purple gravity dust being released, which proceeded to instantly crush his head into a bloodied pulp.

The final soldier had the good sense to try and make a run for it, only for the white-haired girl to form a glyph behind her, jumping back onto it before launching herself towards her target. Once she was in range, one slice was all it took to sever him in half. Both his legs and his torso slammed onto the floor, which began to slowly be coated more and more in red, as what was left of the soldier desperately tried to crawl away while ignoring the immense pain he was in. The sounds of heels clacking caused him to freeze in terror and looked up to see the girl who had slain his fellow soldiers in cold blood, looking down with a scornful expression on her face. Before he could so much as beg for mercy, the girl lifted her left leg up and drove her heel into his head, piercing through his skull and deep into his brain, causing him to twitch uncontrollably as she drove it deeper and deeper, twisting it from side to side to make his final moments as painful as possible. Only when what remained of his body went limp did she finally cease and pull her heel out of the freshly made hole in his head.

**_EVEN THE DEAD CRY, THEIR ONLY COMFORT_**

**_ KILL YOUR FRIEND, I DON'T CARE, ORCHID KIDS, BLINDED STARE_**

**_ NEED TO UNDERSTAND, NO NEED TO FORGIVE_**

**_ NO TRUTH NO SENSE, LEFT TO BE FOLLOWED_**

* * *

Winter Schnee could do nothing but listen to the sounds of the Atlesian soldiers screaming in her COMM device whilst they were picked off one by one as she continued to barrel down the hallways of her father's manor. It all happened so suddenly for the Atlesian specialist. One second she was begrudgingly approaching the manor's dining hall to attend this banquet her bastard father had arranged, the next, the building rumbled and the muffled sounds of something crashing on the first floor were heard. Wasting no time, she instructed her mother and younger brother to find cover while she and the rest of the Atlas soldiers inside investigated.

Her mind raced with several questions as she continued to run down the halls, holding onto her sword tightly as she did so. Questions that she was soon to receive the answers to...and it was unlikely that she was going to like one such answer for one specific question. 'Who could have done this?'

A bloodcurdling scream broke her out of her concentration, causing her to instantly turn towards the source. There, at the end of the hallway, was a girl plunging a rapier onto the back of one of her fellow Atlesian soldiers, electricity arcing from the sword directly into his body. A gasp of horror escaped her lips before she charged towards this mysterious girl. Having heard the sounds of Winter's approach, the girl pulled her own weapon out of the soldier's body and blocked the blade that was heading directly for her neck. She then had her rapier switch its revolver to a vial of wind dust that generated a gust that sent Winter flying up against the wall.

Seeing the woman before her caused the girl to scowl directly at her as she slid down to the floor and slowly start to approach her, but not before swiftly decapitating the soldier she was previously torturing.

"Who are you?" Winter demanded as she slowly got back on her feet.

"It has been some time, so I suppose I could forgive you for not recognizing me..." the girl began.

Then, without warning, a massive glyph was summoned behind her, bewildering Winter to no end since such a semblance was believed currently to only be hereditary to the Schnee family. So how could this girl possibly be able to wield such a power unless...

"...Sister," the girl finally finished, venom lacing her voice.

Hearing this caused Winter's heart to nearly stop as her eyes widened in pure shock.

"W-...Weiss?" she just barely mustered.

"Oh, what's the matter, Winter?" Weiss asked as she continued to approach her eldest sister. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"H-H-How?" Winter questioned. "You died! He-Father said that-"

"Cut the bullshit, Winter!" Weiss snapped. "I know you were in on that bastard's scheme to get rid of me."

"He what?!" the Atlas specialist exclaimed in horror. "Weiss, I swear, I-"

"STOP LYING TO ME!" the former heiress screamed, hot tears welling in her eyes. "That's why you didn't stop him, wasn't it? You all sided with him and just waited for the right moment to dump me down to Mantle like I was garbage! And then you told the world I was dead to cover your asses!"

Tears of her own began to form in Winter's eyes. All those years ago, as she trained her younger sister, she began to notice something darker growing beneath Weiss' very soul. She would often let out her hatred for her father to her, likely because she knew, at the time, she could trust her. Eventually, she began to mutter to herself about how she wanted to kill him, or how her mother and Whitley turned a blind eye to the abuse she endured. She couldn't help but think to herself now that maybe, if she had done something about it, she could have prevented her sister from devolving to the monster that took her shape. At that moment, she couldn't help but let her emotions overpower her.

"Weiss..." she choked out. "I-"

"Save it," Weiss coldly interrupted. "I don't want your half-hearted apology."

Suddenly, with the wave of her hand, a white, almost ghostly Beowolf formed behind her as she continued to glare at her eldest sister.

"What I DO want...IS YOUR BLOOD!" she finished.

A visibly shaken Winter stared at this sight for a couple of seconds before finally shaking it off, readying her weapon for a fight she never in a million years could dream of happening.

"Weiss, please, I don't want to fight you," she pleaded.

"That's a shame...because I CERTAINLY want to fight you," Weiss countered.

With that declaration, the Beowolf charged towards Winter and managed to slash its claws at her while she wasn't focused, taking a chunk of her aura with it, her body shattering a nearby decorative vase as it flew up against a wall. She managed to quickly get back on her feet and slice the summoned Grimm in half, only for her sister to sprint towards her and bring her sword down upon her. She managed to block it just in time and was about to try and go on the offensive, only for Weiss to deliver a barrage of quick yet powerful slashes with Myrtenaster, forcing her to have to go completely on the defensive. The entire time, Weiss continued to give her eldest sister a scornful, hate-filled look with a clear intent to kill.

"As you can see, dearest Winter, my skills have doubled since last we saw each other!" she stated as she continued her assault.

"Then it seems you've forgotten a very important lesson, Weiss," Winter countered. "Twice the pride means double the fall!"

Before Weiss could say anything in response, a glyph of Winter's creation formed between the two of them and thrust the younger Schnee away from her. Once she was far enough away, six more glyphs formed around Weiss as a seventh propelled Winter to the one that was directly behind her sister. She landed feet first and thrust herself towards the one on Weiss' left, delivering a devastating slash from her own blade at her. She continued this tactic for each glyph that surrounded her target until finally delivering a crushing blow from above that sent Weiss on her back and sliding across the floor. She shook off the damage her aura had sustained and got back on her feet, only to see a summoned Queen Lancer floating behind her sister as she unsheathed the second sword that was concealed in her main weapon.

"Weiss...I'm only going to say this one more time...DON'T make me do this!" Winter pleaded.

"Worry less about what you'd do to me and more about what I'm going to do to you!" Weiss retaliated.

Then, much to Winter's shock, a large, almost medieval-like suit of armor that towered over both Schnee sisters formed behind Weiss. Carrying a gargantuan broadsword, it barreled towards Winter's Queen Lancer, which flew upward to narrowly avoid its attack, causing the sword to slice through the wall and cause a portion of it to collapse. In the midst of this, Weiss once more dashed towards her sister, swinging her rapier towards her, only for her to block the attack with one sword and slash at her with the second. Grunting in pain, Weiss retaliated by having the revolver on her weapon switch to red fire dust, superheating the blade and, with two swiped, managed to slice off the blade of Winter's first sword. The Atlas specialist looked down at her now bladeless hilt stunned, allowing Weiss the chance to swing her leg at her face, the force of the kick causing her to stumble backward.

While that was going on, the massive armor deflected the stinger of the Queen Lancer with its sword and attempted to swing its massive fist down upon its head, only for it to fly downward and lunge its stinger once more. It managed to pierce through the armor's chest, only for it to grab the Lancer by its abdomen and swing it through one of the hallway's windows, shattering it in the process. It then slammed the body of the summoned insectoid Grimm onto the floor and lifted its sword up before bringing it down upon its head, decapitating it and causing it to dissipate out of existence.

Back with Weiss and Winter, the younger of the Schnee sisters continued to unleash all her fury upon her eldest sister, slashing with great speed and ferocity and taking advantage of the emotional anguish that she now knew practically consumed Winter's very soul. It was ironic. One of the first lessons she had taught her when she trained her was 'Emotions can grant you strength, but you must never let them overpower you.' And yet, here Winter was. Struggling to keep up with the sister she had assumed was dead all these years because she just couldn't bring herself to harm her, despite devolving into the monster that continued to slash her aura away.

Finally, with a cry filled with contempt and hatred, she brought her rapier down upon her sister, causing her aura to break and for her to fall harshly onto the floor before her, her sword sliding away from her as Weiss looked down at her newest victim. With a wave of her hand, a glyph formed around Winter's neck, an open hole at the center tightly clasping itself around it. The Atlesian specialist could do nothing but struggle to breathe and grasp onto the glyph in desperation while her younger sister stepped onto her back to keep her from moving.

"W-We-Weiss..." Winter just barely managed to cough out.

"What's wrong, Winter?" Weiss asked. "I assumed that this is what you've always wanted."

Suddenly, the glyph began to shrink itself, the section that clasped around Winter's neck now slowly slicing into its flesh and causing blood to gush out of the freshly made wounds whilst she continued to try and free herself, despite her now beginning to choke on her own blood.

**_FACING THIS UNBEARABLE FEAR, LIKE MEETING AN OLD FRIEND_**

**_ (TIME TO DIE, POOR MATES, YOU MADE ME WHAT I AM!)_**

"After all...isn't it a teacher's greatest desire for her student to surpass her?" Weiss continued as she began to grin to herself, much like her deranged girlfriend would.

**_IN THIS WORLD OF A MILLION RELIGIONS, EVERYONE PRAYS THE SAME WAY_**

**_ (YOUR PRAYING IS IN VAIN, IT'LL ALL BE OVER SOON!)_**

Then, slowly but surely, the glyph started to pull Winter's head and spine out of her body, blood continuing to coat the floor as her body began to thrash wildly in pain and she began to scream in agony, soon letting out a final, high-pitched shriek due to her vocal cords being stretched to inhuman lengths, before finally falling silent once her head and spinal cord were completely severed from her body.

* * *

Amid the chaos, Willow Schnee had barricaded herself into her study along with her son, Whitley, in an attempt to try and ride out whatever had befallen onto their home. Even so, the two of them feared the all too likely outcome that whoever was responsible would find them soon enough. Unfortunately for them, it was an outcome that came much, much quicker than they realized. For not long after they had pushed Willow's desk onto the door, something practically exploded from the other side, forcing the mother and son to quickly find cover as the desk flew into the back wall.

**_FATHER HELP ME, SAVE ME A PLACE BY YOUR SIDE_**

**_ (THERE IS NO GOD! OUR CREED IS BUT FOR OURSELVES)_**

The two of them then peeked out of their hiding spots to see, standing at the now open doorway, Weiss, her eyes covered by shadows once more, Myrtenaster in her left hand and something dangling from the right. Upon seeing her long thought dead daughter, Willow made the unfortunate mistake of standing up from where she hid herself, a look of shock in her tear-filled eyes, as she approached her.

"Weiss?" she asked.

**_(NOT A HERO UNLESS YOU DIE! OUR SPECIES EAT THE WOUNDED ONES)_**

It was at that moment that she finally saw what it was that was in Weiss' right hand...Winter's head, dangling by her spine.

**_DRUNK WITH THE BLOOD OF YOUR VICTIMS, I DO FEEL YOUR PITY-WANTING PAIN_**

**_ LUST FOR FAME, A DEADLY GAME_**

**_ (RUN AWAY WITH YOUR IMPECCABLE KIN!)_**

A look of distraught overtook Willow's face as she finally noticed the decapitated head of her eldest daughter, only to then also notice Weiss' blue eyes glaring right at her.

**_GOOD WOMBS HATH BORN BAD SONS_**

Before she could speak, Willow was then forced up against the back wall by her daughter, who barreled towards her thanks to one of her glyphs. With her mother now pinned to the wall, Weiss threw her to the floor and began to bring her rapier down onto her, stabbing Willow repeatedly as she could do nothing but scream in pain. Seeing his mother in distress, Whitley proceeded to grab an empty wine bottle and shatter it before charging towards her deranged sister, only for him to stop when a glyph formed at the center of his body, splitting his body in half horizontally. Whitley's eyes widened for a split second, only for the life to then fade from them and for both halves of his body to fall over, his organs beginning to spill out and drench the floor with blood.

Unfortunately, his mother could not even scream out in anguish over this atrocity, for she had begun to choke on her blood while her daughter continued to relentlessly stab her with her weapon. Never fading until her victim went completely still. Only then did she finally cease her vicious attack, her now outfit drenched in red as she walked around the body of her mother and through the puddle of her blood before looking down at her lifeless hues with not even the slightest hint of remorse or regret for her deed.

**_CURSING GOD, WHY? FALLING FOR EVERY LIE_**

**_ SURVIVORS' GUILT IN US FOREVERMORE_**

**_ FIFTEEN CANDLES, REDEEMERS OF THIS WORLD_**

**_ DWELL IN HYPOCRISY, "HOW WERE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?"_**

* * *

"Your study, sir," an Atlesian soldier stated as he escorted Jacques Schnee through the halls. "You should be safe here."

"I'd better be," the owner of the SDC bitterly responded.

Wasting no time, Jacques immediately rushed into the room and slammed the door shut, not even bothering to thank the two soldiers that helped bring him here safely amidst the chaos. Once he was inside, the duo of Atlesian soldiers stood before opposite sides of the door, rifles at the ready to bring down anyone who wished to make an attempt on his life.

But then, all of a sudden, a burst of red crashed through the ceiling from the vents above and landed in front of the stunned guards, revealing itself to be Ruby, grinning psychotically at the two of them, her outfit and weapon drenched in red.

"Evening, gentlemen," she said before swinging her scythe at the soldiers.

* * *

From the other side, Jacques began to hear the sounds of gunfire, only for it to then be replaced by screaming.

"What the hell is going on out there?" he said. "Guards!"

He approached the door and grasped on the knob, only for it to not even budge when he attempted to turn it and for it to feel suspiciously cold. He looked down to see a most peculiar sight...the knob had somehow been completely frozen. Not long afterward, the blood of the two soldiers began to seep through the door's bottom crack and into the room.

"Hello, Father," a voice suddenly said.

The white-haired man's already ice-cold blood somehow managed to run even colder upon hearing this person's voice. He slowly turned around to his desk to see, sitting there, his now only child, covered in blood and scowling at the man who had caused her so much pain and misery.

"W-Weiss?" Jacques questioned. "But-but I thought you-"

"Died? Like you hoped I had?" Weiss asked. "Well, Father, as you can clearly see, your little scheme failed."

She then brought up a wine bottle and a glass that she had, well, 'inherited' from her mother's collection.

"So, it's been eight years since I last saw you, how have you been? Is your hand adjusting well without that finger?"

In the midst of Weiss' question, her father slowly reached his hand to one of his back pockets, where a concealed pistol was located. However, right before he could grasp it, with the snap of Weiss' fingers, a glyph formed around his hand and forcefully pulled it away from his weapon much to his shock.

"Now, I come all this way to pay my family a little visit and THAT'S how you greet me?" the former heiress asked. "*tsk* I see you haven't changed one bit."

She watched as her captive father attempted to free his hand to no avail, all while she poured herself a glass of wine. She took one sip from it before continuing with the conversation.

"Have a seat, Father," she said, motioning to an empty chair in front of her.

"You...You have the NERVE to speak like that to me, you insolent-!" Jacques attempted to chastize.

"HAVE. A. SEAT. FATHER," Weiss repeated harshly.

Three more glyphs then appeared around Jacques' other hand and both of his feet, pulling themselves towards the empty chair which had turned itself around thanks to another glyph. Despite the owner of the SDC's efforts, he was eventually forced to sit down on said chair, the glyphs forcing his arms onto the armrests and his feet onto the floor, before it turned itself to where Jacques was now facing his scorned daughter.

"Now, isn't this better?" said daughter asked.

"Do you...Do you really expect me to start groveling before you now? To beg for your forgiveness over my actions?" Jacques snarled.

"Oh, no, Father, I'm well beyond giving a damn about your forgiveness," Weiss coldly answered before taking another sip of wine. "After all, I, your own daughter, wasn't worth spit to you, so why should your words be worth anything to me?"

"Then why DID you come here?" Jacques questioned.

His daughter gave off a dark chuckle in response before answering.

"You mean you haven't figured it out?" she asked. "It's simple."

She then proceeded to sip what was left of her wine before continuing.

"To give you what you fucking deserve."

The instant those words escaped her lips, three figures formed behind Weiss, slowly revealing themselves to be summoned duplicates of Willow, Winter, and Whitley, much to Jacques' horror.

"What did you-" he tried to ask.

"What do you think I did, you idiot?" Weiss interrupted before turning to the summons of her family.

The three of them nodded once before slowly walking around the desk and approaching Jacques, who had a look of unbridled terror overtake his face.

"W-Weiss, what...what are you doing?" he asked as cold sweat ran down his face.

"Taking back what was promised to me," Weiss answered as she rose up from her seat, glaring down at her father. "After today, the Schnee Dust Company will be mine and mine alone...And I will make it my mission to ensure that NO ONE remembers you after you're gone."

"W-W-Weiss, d-darling, why don't we just sit down and-" Jacques pleaded.

"Winter, shut him up," Weiss ordered.

Without hesitation, the Winter summon reached into her father's mouth and proceeded to violently tear his tongue off. The head of the SCD screamed out in agony only for the summon of Willow to pull him off of the chair he was forcefully seated upon, resulting in both of his hands being ripped out thanks to the glyphs that bound them. Once he was on the floor, the three summons began to viciously rip into Jacques' body, all while he continued to thrash about in misery and while his daughter watched the sight with a wicked grin on her face.

"See? Now why couldn't any of you have bothered to do that?" she asked the summons as though they were the actual people they represented. "Maybe then you'd all still be alive."

After several, wretched seconds of torture, the life finally faded from Jacques' eyes, only for the three summons to continue to tear his corpse apart until there was nothing left but a heap of mangled flesh and bones above a pool of blood. Only then did Weiss finally have the summons dissipate before seating herself back down, chuckling to herself.

"Ah, what a day," she said.

No sooner than when she said that did the door to the study open, revealing Ruby and the equally mutilated corpses of the two Atlesian soldiers who tried to stop her. The scythe-wielding huntress proceeded to step inside, catching the corpse of Weiss' father on the floor before whistling in impressment.

"Love what you've done with the place, Snowflake," she remarked.

"I figured you would, Rosie," Weiss responded. "I take it you had fun?"

"Mm-hm," Ruby answered in an eerily chipper tone. "I'm gonna go take care of the rest of the guards in here."

"Well, when you do, you come right back here, got it?" Weiss ordered.

"Uh, sure, Weiss, but why?" Ruby asked.

"Oh, I think you know why," a smirking Weiss answered before giving her lover a wink.

"...Oh, I see what you mean," Ruby responded with a smirk of her own.

"Don't wash the blood off this time," Weiss playfully requested.

"Heh, wouldn't dream of it, Ice Queen," Ruby responded.

She was about to head off to finish her task, only to stop after taking a couple of steps.

"Oh! And don't worry about Atlas trying to screw this up for you. Ozzy'll make sure nothing happens. He's got Ol' Ironwood by the balls, you know."

"Got it," Weiss replied.

Ruby, again, was about to depart when...

"Oh, Ruby, one more thing," Weiss said.

The red-hooded girl, again, ceased walking and turned around to see her girlfriend approaching her. Once she reached her, the new head of the SCD wrapped her arms around the psychopathic huntress in a loving embrace.

"I couldn't have done this without you," she stated before planting a quick kiss on Ruby's lips. "Thank you."

"Aw, anything for my little Snowflake," Ruby responded.

Once her beloved released her embrace, the devious huntress turned back around to depart and carry out her blood-soaked duties. Weiss, in the meantime, walked back to her seat, brushing past her father's corpse as she did so, and turned the chair to look out the window to the rest of the city of Atlas, grinning deviously as she did so. After eight years in hell, a new chapter in life had begun for her. One where she was in charge of the SDC. One where no one would dare to oppose her.

One where she was no longer the loneliest of all.


End file.
